People hope to be remembered a little bit, whether family, friends, or neighbors, because it brings some meaning to their existence. It’s depressing to think that once one is out of the room, no one will even think of you again.
My grandfather died 29 years ago, at the age of 97. He had moved away from the town where he had made a difference 20 years before that, and outside of family and a few of my mom’s friends, no one really remembered him. It was sad to me, even though I still think of him often.
He is buried in Southern California, I went to his grave once about 12 years after he passed, my mom (now 90 yrs. old) has not been able to go there because of her health. It’s sad that there really isn’t anyone who will ever go there again.