A little while ago, The Times reported the story of Luciano D’Adamo, a 68 year-old cook at a school in Rome, who was run over in 2019 as he was taking out the rubbish. (Tom Kington, The Times, 29 October 2024) 

Waking up in hospital an hour after the incident, D’Adamo was convinced it was 1980, and that he was 23 years old. He had no recollection of the ensuing 39 years. 

And then he looked in the mirror.

‘I saw an old man, not me - I screamed, and nurses tried to calm me down. I was terrified, it was like a horror film.’

The shocks continued. D’Adamo didn’t recognise his wife, who was not the girlfriend he had been dating in 1980. And then he met a man of 30 who introduced himself as his son. 

Since the initial trauma, D’Adamo’s partner has talked him through his lost years, using photos and videos. He has gradually recollected flashes of events - including the birth of his two sons; and Francesco Totti’s chipped penalty in Italy’s European Championship semi-final victory over the Netherlands in 2000.

 D’Adamo has also been acquainting himself with unfamiliar technologies: slim televisions and the internet; smartphones and satnav.

‘My son said it was like a street map, but alive.’

D’Adamo still finds himself trying to run up stairways three steps at a time, as he did when he was 23 - even though it makes him out of breath.

This news story prompted me to wonder how I would feel if I woke up in 1980.

I’d be 16, and no doubt full of anxieties – about money, girls and chemistry exams; about my awkward posture, unruly hair and big ears. But I’d also be fit, healthy and playing sport. My mental faculties would be acute. And on the radio I’d be listening to ‘Going Underground,’ ‘Give Me the Night’ and ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart.’

Above all, I imagine that, unencumbered by the experience of setbacks and the knowledge of past failures, I’d be full of curiosity and enthusiasm, confident that the best of life is ahead of me.

We should be grateful that we don’t have to undergo the trials of Luciano D’Adamo. But with the start of each year, we do get the opportunity to turn back the clock; to set aside cynicism and scepticism, the wearying expectation that things tend towards disappointment and decay. 

We can still try running upstairs three steps at a time.

Rather poignantly, D’Adamo feels that two thirds of his life remain in darkness.

‘I have learnt that the only life lived is that remembered. The rest is lost in the wind.’

 Perhaps this is an encouragement to us all to create and cherish new memories in 2025.

 Happy new year!

'Hello stranger.
It seems so good to see you back again.
How long has it been?
It seems like a mighty long time.
I'm so glad you stopped by to say hello to me.
Remember, that's the way it used to be.
It seems like a mighty long time.
It seems like a mighty long time.
I’m so glad you’re here again.
If you're not gonna stay,
Please don't tease me like you did before.
Because I still love you so.
Although, it seems like a mighty long time.
It seems like a mighty long time.
I'm so happy that you're here at last.'
Barabara Lewis, 'Hello Stranger'

No. 500