Facebook friend, Patrick, links today a beautiful and moving reflection about growing older, by Fr. Patrick Hannon. It's funny and thoughtful and deeply human. Also personalistic. He writes about his fear of losing his memory, which he supposes would be like losing his self.
Memories allow me to believe — humbly, fervently — that I am in no small way important, that my little life has meaning, that I am part of a grand story, that I am an actor — leading, supporting or otherwise — on an impressive stage. Memories, these enduring imprints of faces and places and fragrances and melodies and textures and tastes, stand prepared to remind us that we are human persons, each of us with a compelling story to tell. And yet I have this gnawing feeling that I have sprung a leak and that slowly, one by one, my memories are dripping out of me. First I forget names, then places, then faces, then myself. I shudder at the thought.