When my mother died I had mixed feelings. She was 86 and suffering from dementia and had forgotten her life for the most part. She had forgotten me, her only child. My sister only lived 6 days and died at the hospital without getting to come home.
Dementia was a blessing in some ways. She forgot the things that hurt. She didn't remember me or dad or sis. Life is filled with pain and loss. Sometimes I wish I could forget the bad things. But we keep them in a little box in the corner of our minds and try as we may drag them out once in awhile to relive the loss and the pain.
I'm not crazy enough to enjoy or relish pain but if I must feel it in order to hang on to my memories I will gladly pay the price. When I lay down to die I want to remember every event, every adventure, every fight, every woman I ever knew or cared about. My beautiful children 4 sons and a daughter. They baby I delivered.
All the sunrises and sunsets that constitute a life. I don't believe there is anything after death. Your basic elements return to the Universe to be mixed into something else later on. Your memories and feelings dissipate when the electrical system in your brain shuts down. If some portion of my consciousness remains I would like to be the falling rain that soaks into the earth and makes things grow!All your attempts and failures and successes die with you. What remains is what you planted while you were here. Your children, a few trees perhaps. You will be remembered for the kind acts you performed.
I am quite satisfied with the final outcome.