"Soon we shall die and all memory of those five [who fell from the bridge] will have left the earth; and we ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten."
That quote from the last chapter of The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder struck me this afternoon as I sat on the front porch reading and listening to the rain. How silly it is to take ourselves too seriously. Most of us will soon be forgotten after we die, even by members of our own family. I only know the name of one of my great grandparents, John Schneider. I know almost nothing about him or about his wife. I know the names of a few of my grandmother's siblings on my dad's side. Uncle Edgar was a Jesuit who I met once or twice, but she was the youngest of thirteen and I never met most of her brothers and sisters. The generation beyond remains shrouded in the mists of past time.
