Out of the Loop

I saw “The Notebook” last evening.  I didn't read the book, but from what I hear “it's way better than the movie.”  I really enjoyed the film so the book must be excellent.  The book is always better.  Standard operating procedure.

With all the amazing advances in medicine coming at us each day I'm having a hard time estimating an age here, but I'm going to go with the 75-80 range.  To any of my friends that read this, especially females (because chances are you'll have it together much longer than I will), if you're still friends with me by the time I reach 75 to 80 years old please end my life by any means possible at the first sign of me losing my mind.  Do whatever you need to do.  Expired Ensure, a strategically placed banana peel near my bedpan, faulty tennis balls on the legs of my walker, do whatever you need to do.  I'm giving you full authorization to end it on the spot.  End it.

I cannot possibly imagine living in a world without memories.  How does one define their life or measure happiness in a mind void of memories?  Is it possible?  To me, memories are the fabric of what makes us human and without them life would be meaningless.  We make new memories each day.  Some replace, some hurt, some enhance, but they come together to make everyone who they are.  We learn from them, grow from them, and pass them on when it's time.  Sorry I'm getting sentimental, but the movie really got me to thinking.  What is there to look forward to when you're not going to remember it anyway?  Granted there are those flashes of hope when you can string a few together, but you won't remember that, and I can't help but wonder if it's worth it.

If I'm unable to recognize my children, or can't remember the nurse's name who wipes the drool off my aged sweater three times a day, please “take care of it” for me.  I don't want to be remembered by my grandchildren as the crazy old grandpa who asks their name every five minutes in between repeating some comment on the current weather.  I want them to remember me for the time they spent with me when I was with it.  When I could tell stories of my times and give wise, old-sage style, advice.  When I could remember the look in their eyes when we connected on something.  When love wasn't something that needed to be explained to me.

schrags

wow. holy tears in my eyes...excellent post dude, you've got us all reaching for our hankies. i agree wholeheartedly. hopefully there will be some cure for such things by the time we're octogenarians. if we're walker buddies at that point, don't worry, i got your back.

Sight is another thing I would have to add to your list. In my opinion, the ability to see is one of the most important (if not they most important) sense we have. I have to give credit to all the blind people that are able to do everyday things. I know I take for granted how living is much easier for those of us that can see.

Once again the power of film can cause us to think. This is what good filmaking should do. Instead it wasting our time & money showing how to drive fast, kill each other with our bare hands or worry about aliens from some unknown universe ,some evil spirts who will steal our souls, or better yet, only think of self gradification.

I too was quite depressed by seeing this film, and I couldn't stop thinking of Grandma. I do however, take comfort in the feeling that once she reached a point of no return, she was happy in her world and it was all of us, who loved her that were suffering. In fact it was only my loving memories of her that kept her alive for me.

We can not control our destiny, we can only live out our life as it is unfolding. If we surround ourselves with people we love & that love us, whatever comes around the corner can be met with peace.

Good call Trudy, it reminded me very much of Grandma and I think that's why I thought about it so much. She reached that point where you no longer knew what was sticking with her, but if, just once, it did stick, it felt worth it. It's a hard concept to deal with, and I have no idea how it would feel to be on the other end of it. Do you think she knew that she once had a memory of something and just constantly couldn't think of it? Like having a word on the tip of your tongue? Or did she exist in her own world where she re-learned the same thing every day?

For me, I don't think you can truly "feel" without memories. Sure, you get a sudden rush, or a quick chuckle, but there's nothing to compare it with. If it doesn't stick, it mine as well not have happened, and that's when I begin to question whether it's worth it to everyone that endures the suffering.

Word. That movie made me cry, but your post made me cry even harder.

I read the book and loved it!!! I saw the movie and loved it too!!! I think they were both good in their own context with there being no point in comparing them. We all know the great characteristics of such an excellant book cannot be captured in a movie. With that being said, I loved what you wrote Schrags!!! I can't even imagine what it would feel like to have a person you loved most of your life (grandma, grandpa, mother, father, husband, or wife) look at you like a complete stranger. Who is it hardest on? Can we debate stem-cell research as the cure all, end all? I am a little scientist...:)

I cried for my Mom, cried during the book, movie and blog. I guess I'm just a crying type of person. Thanks for the very thoughtful and perceptive thoughts. I only hope that some other faulty gene brings natural death .... long before I lose my mind and memories.

This is a belligerent fan angry at your lack of updates.