I lost my friend. He did not die,
He just forgot my name
And now I’m sorry
I let slide so many days.
And then I telephoned, you see?
Brim full of news and guilt,
And thinking to snatch back
Full tilt, those sacks of missing time,
Only then to find old age’s stealth
And the mind’s fragility,
Had of a sudden robbed him
Of both himself, and me.
And falling thus into the void
Was all we’d said and done,
And all we’d seen,
And all the places that we’d been,
And the laughter,… oh the jolliness,
It was gone,
And I was just this stranger,
Cold-calling, on the telephone.
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The Rivendale Review 
That is so beautiful and so sad. Only, all that shared experience isn’t all lost really. It’s still in there somewhere, even if the brain can no longer join all the dots.