When Memories Vanish

 In a few generations, give or take, the memories of those people who knew us will vanish.

On Friday April 19th at 10:30 AM, my mother passed away in hospice, in Venice, FL.

In addition to the cancer to which she eventually succumbed, she also suffered from dementia.

In my mom's final months she didn't know who she was anymore. She had become a stranger to those who knew her. The race was on between two despicable diseases, with the cancer finally overtaking the dementia. As twisted as it may sound, cancer became "the cure" for my mom's dementia, given that there is no other cure.  

Born Loretta Ann Schrock to parents John Reuben Schrock and Marie Edna Miller on March 2 1944, my mom grew up in Iowa, Pennsylvania, and Florida. It was in Florida that she started a family. She had two sons..i.e.. myself and my brother who was 5 yrs my junior. I use the past tense because he was killed in an automobile accident when he was 16 yrs old on June 8th, 1984.

When my time is up, the thought that my mom's memory will vanish along with me, is, needless to say, unsettling. Right now, the thought that all those who knew me from the very beginning are all gone, my mom being the last to go, is unsettling. There are a handful people alive who knew my various departed family members, but alas, when they are no more, all the memories vanish. At that point, it's like they never lived. 

But again, as unsettling as it may be, reality doesn't care how we feel about reality. Considering this and everything I've laid out above, I will utilize this blog-post a memorial, so to speak. It will be my way of making sure they live on.