We are memories. Our hole personality is built on memories, of which most are forgotten, learning experiences we once had, burned into our brains or muscles or nerves, and then faded. The habit remains. Seldom can we tell which part of our self stems from which experience, if not for long and tiring searches in the depths of our minds.
Losing our memories doesn't mean we're losing our selves entirely. But to great extend. We digress back to someone we used to be, someone that since has then learned and evolved and changed - but not enough.
I wrote something like that after my dad had a stroke, and I was trying to make sense of his shift in personality. He had worked very hard on himself the years prior to that, and yet his brain reset to someone he was long before that. Thankfully, he's recovered a lot since then, including the progress he had made.
I saw the same in my grandparents, when they got lost more and more in dementia. They drifted backwards in time. The memories burned into their souls remained, the persons they were. And the persons they truly were, behind the facades, the roles they had played. The loss of memories also removed those. And the patriarch became the loving grandfather that he sometimes hid too well behind the act.
And some things remained. After 6 years, Lily and I finally got the permission by the mother to visit Germany, and with that my grandmother. She didn't remember much, didn't seem to recognize me, let alone a child that she had only seen through video calls which in and of itself was a confusing technology for her. But there was a moment of clarity, when she watched Lily playing, after many hugs and snuggles, that she took my hand, pressed it and said without leaving her first great-granddaughter out of sight: "It's good that you finally made it." She slept away a month later, as if she had waited for this to happen, to be able to hold her great-granddaughter.
I remember that. I took pictures, beautiful pictures of that moment. I have one in my office, in Lily's photo book, and some spares, just in case. Lily won't remember the person her great-granny was, she never got to know her. They didn't spend more than 4h in total with each other, though very intense ones, in a good sense. But she loves that picture. It's a sense of origin I think. That she knows where she comes from.
Dementia is cruel. It hurts. There's a reasonable chance that I might catch it eventually, given the family history. Maybe some other illness will beat it too me. But if it reaches for my brain, for my memories, the worst part will be forgetting my loved ones. Not for me - but for them. The sadness that your own father, maybe grandfather, doesn't remember you, that the person inside is fading, is brutal. I wouldn't want anyone to feel that, especially not those I love.
But it's not in my power. And there are still moments of joy. Mom and I talked a lot about that, when is it time to go, when is life not worth living anymore? We came up with points, but these days I find myself thinking that we'd push it anyway, that we, who thanks to our experiences are able to find a little joy in everything, will always hold on to a little more. Just one more smile. And then, suddenly, it will be too late, and we won't be able to decide anymore, laying our fate in the hands of those we trusted with our wishes before - and then we have to make peace with our wishes, even if we changed what's left of our minds.
I know I'm a week late. But I thought so much about this topic, I didn't want to just let it dissipate. I hope it's okay to post it in this group anyway, even without the tag which I removed so it doesn't end up in this week's posts.
What are your thoughts about this topic? Please feel free to engage in any original way, including dropping links to your posts on similar topics. I'm happy to read (and curate) any quality content that is not created by LLM/AI.
Post written for the weekend-engagement by 
This is my response to:
2/ My biggest fear is losing the memory of my life as often happens as one ages (my dad had dementia). Do you have the same fear and if so what things would you least like to forget and why?
Thank you for reading!