Imperfection Is Not Invalidation

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A recollection is, first and foremost, someone's story. That a memory may be imperfect does not invalidate the one who holds it, and denial by another does not disprove the event. On the Spencer revelations, and on why a recalled truth deserves more than a rebuttal.

A Book That Unsettles

The current serialisation, in the Daily Mail, of the 9^th Earl Spencer Charles Spencer's book "Swan Song: Diana, My Sister" is yielding quite interesting revelations about Diana, Princess of Wales, who died in 1997, and it has left the Royal Family reeling.

At the heart of the matter lies a phone conversation between the then Prince Charles and Charles Spencer. In the book, the earl recalls words the prince spoke to him in the days after Diana's death, to the effect of, "Rest assured, we'll forget her soon enough."

In response, the Palace has released a statement: "While we do not comment on books as a matter of principle, His Majesty is mindful that the pain of fraternal grief can cloud reason, affect judgement and colour memory in ways others do not recognise, even many years after such a loss."

Why Fabricate?

When I first heard this response, I did wonder why the earl would choose to fabricate such a statement and attribute it to the prince who is now Charles III. I am a supporter of the monarchy as an institution; at the same time, I appreciate that it is peopled by humans, just as you and I are, with all the vicissitudes of humanity in frailty, attitude, behaviour and conduct.

The conversation took place on the phone between two men who were, it seems, affected to differing degrees by the death of Princess Diana. The eulogy the earl gave at her funeral suggested there were issues between the Spencers and the Royal Family; I still remember the applause that rippled from the crowds outside into the church. I commend him for using that platform the way he did, even if a stuffy cohort felt it was improper.

Words That Stay

In my view, many conversations take place around us, and usually there is something within them that simply sticks; you never forget it. You hear it in your head, in the very voice in which it was spoken to you. For me, a medical professor stood by my hospital bed, after a cancer diagnosis, in September 2009, and one thing I remember him saying, amongst other things, was, "You probably have five weeks."

If I met that professor today and recounted that conversation, there is a likelihood I could be told that, in my pain, my reason had been clouded, affecting my judgement and thereby colouring my memory. Yet those words I heard clearly. Whether another might agree they were spoken is another matter entirely, and it does not invalidate my story.

The Survivor's Truth

This is not an abstract concern for me. I recognise the shape of this dispute, because I have watched the same manoeuvre used against me, where a memory is met not with denial of the facts, but with doubt cast on the one who remembers. I understand this better than I would wish to.

The same goes for other memories I recall vividly, whether it be child sexual abuse or serious emotional abuse, along with utterly reprehensible and unbelievable acts of cruelty meted out to me by people to whom I was a ward. I have heard denials, perhaps out of forgetfulness, or out of an inability to face the consequences of their actions, once committed in private, now brought to light. My experience and my story will not be erased by their blanking the event as though it never happened.

Any book I hope eventually to write as an autobiography will contain explosive revelations, and many of the nuggets already exist, scattered across almost twenty-three years of my blogs. The memories, even those from childhood, still play back like reels of film, each movement or sound relaying in emphatic slow motion, unmistakable cranial celluloid. I know what I lived through, how I felt at the time, and how some of it has affected me today.

When Memory Is Named

In the same vein, I am wont to believe Earl Spencer's recall of that phone conversation. A survivor does not owe you a convincing story; they can only tell you what they know. Whether you believe them, in the end, is entirely left to you.

Too often, a memory is renamed grief, pain, loss, misfortune or spite, or any other unfortunate experience that can be used to neatly dismiss it, or to cast doubt on its veracity. A memory may be imperfect, since we rarely have a recording to replay, but imperfection should never be mistaken for invalidation.

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Thought Picnic: Will Experience Win Out?

Proximity helps ability

Absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder, it could also make you forget and the corollary of which appears to negate that practice does make perfect.

I learnt to ride a bicycle at 9 during which time I had a few accidents and even learnt to ride with my hands off the handle-bars.

Continuous activity in a sphere of expertise does create a fixing in memory but it does not necessarily present total recall.

Familiarity is borne of doing the same thing over time and it is lost if that activity ceases or no particular goal directs what you do.

Recall requires presence

Decades afterwards after a wobble and a few accidents on my bicycle, I gained the confidence again to ride but never really the daring to take my hands of the handle-bars.

I find the same problem with a number of instances of telephone interviews I have had recently, when I was actively doing the things I am certified and commended for the theory, detail, expertise and experience flowed from the tip of my tongue without hesitation, I could guarantee moving to the next stage and was left with the option of taking the opportunity or not.

The breaks from that activity on which I have honed my teeth are showing up in my stutter and parrying off of the questions, I cannot fully remember and honestly say I am unable to answer whilst the technical detail seems to evade the fluency I am accustomed to.

Maybe experience will win out

In the end, what one relies on is the wealth of experience that at least suggests one knows what one is talking about because one has really done it before, given the opportunity to ride that bicycle again, there is no doubt that after a wobble or so a relatively smooth ride beckons.

The question remains whether enough has been done to make the difference without which it would be back to the original sketches and foundations of what one had built a whole career on – when one asks will that chance to shine come again?

A recall I obtain

No faffing about

I did not waste my time in deciding to go on holiday immediately after learning that the project I was on was suspended literally without warning or notice; things were just up in the air.

It meant bringing my holiday forward a good 6 weeks in the height of summer heat as I had planned that Gran Canaria would be the place to return to.

The general idea was whilst the companies sorted out the considerations and goals of the project we had the freewill to seek other opportunities or wait out the possibility of recall for the month of August.

Courtesies with recalls

This morning I got notice that we were being recalled to the project but I missed the basic courtesy of expressed regret at the way matters were handled, those in permanent employment would simply have been reassigned to other duties, and people like me in self-employment were just left high and dry.

Surely, there should be a sense of gentlemanliness in the conduct of business and it appears certain conditions will be written into the recall to ensure we are not met with this kind of situation again.

The Englishman in me was a bit miffed but again glad that I did not have to visit the job market so soon seeking new opportunities.

Expectations and abilities

We expect the details to be fine-tuned and finalise over the next couple of weeks and hopefully we can return to doing what we know best to do; take on challenging projects, offer working solutions and deliver excellent results.

One question remains for me though, should I retain my Wednesdays off or stretch myself for the 40-hour week – it has been over 5 months after chemotherapy, I feel good and strong though still not as fit as I once was – it might just be smart to take things easy, doing my best over 4 days is probably better than petering out over 5 days.

Meanwhile, a week of holidays still remains with a trip to the island of Tenerife tomorrow, the alarm is going off at 04:45 hours, surely, I should still be in bed then.