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0 of 3 Premium Clicks used this month SUBSCRIBE Print + Online Subscriber Activation | Register x Forgot Password | Need an Account? subscribe | newsletter | deals Classifieds Jobs Autos Real Estate FEATURED » NEWS NOW Dozens of plants going in on the Plaza ... Smoking, solicitation bans on Ashland City Council agenda Tuesday ... Ashland Gardens: Ashland's Garden of the Month is at 354 Hargadine St. ... Dozens of plants going in on the Plaza ... Smoking, solicitation bans on Ashland City Council agenda Tuesday ... Ashland Gardens: Ashland's Garden of the Month is at 354 Hargadine St. ... RELOCATIONS Herb Rothschild Jr.: The loss of self Comment DailyTidings.com Writer Posted Apr. 2, 2016 at 12:01 AM Posted Apr. 2, 2016 at 12:01 AM » Social News I knew people in my parents’ generation who, as they aged, feared death. Doubtless people in my generation do as well. It’s so personal a matter that it’s hard to know. But I’m guessing our more prevalent fear is dementia. Although the U.S. is ranked only 37th among nations in life expectancy, on average we live a long time — 76 years for men and 81 years for women. Death comes to most of us after we’ve had almost all the major life-enhancing experiences we’re going to have. If we miss out on additional progeny or another trip abroad, we’re not going to rage against the dying of the light. But the gradual and ineluctable disappearance of the self we know is a different matter. There are forms of dementia that manifest in middle age. The Alzheimer’s Association reports 400,000 Americans under 65 have Early Onset. Still, dementia in its several forms usually manifests later. The longer we live, the more people we know who are afflicted or are caring for someone afflicted. Those people may be ourselves. Dementia care is the loving vocation of my friend Elizabeth Hallett. From 1993 until it closed in 2009, she managed the Memory Center of Ashland Community Hospital. Now she maintains a private practice for both caregivers and patients. Elizabeth told me dementia can be even harder on family caregivers than on the afflicted. Responsibility increasingly shifts to them, and often their charges — especially men — resent being dependent. And if the burden of home care becomes so heavy that placement in a residential care facility is required, the decision can be fraught with guilt and grief over the permanent separation from bed and board. Remarkably, 65 percent of family caregivers die before their loved ones. They need more community support. There are other kinds of challenges — legal, financial, and social — as well as physical management. But I keep returning to the fading of the familiar self. In this regard, too, it can be harder on the family caregivers, who don’t lose the memory of the person who used to be. The word “identity” comes from Latin “idem,” meaning the same. From birth we are continually changing. Our genetic makeup guarantees biological continuity, but it’s our ongoing consciousness of ourselves on which our experienced identity depends. When I look at photographs of myself as a child, it isn’t the physical resemblance that establishes the connection. It’s the memories of myself from that time until this present moment of self-awareness. Granted, such memories are factually unreliable and there may be numerous small gaps, but that’s beside the point. Our experienced identity is a story we tell to ourselves about ourselves. If it’s a dishonest story — a highly self-serving autobiography — we pay a high price in the quality of our lives and relationships. Some may even argue we have created a false self. Still, we maintain an identity for ourselves and others. But when memory goes, so does the narrative continuity on which our sense of identity depends. What remains? That’s a metaphysical question; people’s answers derive from their belief systems. If we believe our individual identities are delusional ego-selves from which we do well to be released into a sea of undifferentiated being, then dementia need not be a cause of grief. But it’s individuals I love and whose loss I mourn. I’m not frightened, but I wish to be spared. Herb Rothschild's column appears in the Tidings every Saturday. DailyTidings.com Writer Posted Apr. 2, 2016 at 12:01 AM » Comment or view comments Reader Reaction » STAY INFORMED Email NewsLetter Sign Up Today Sign up for our newsletter and have the top headlines from your community delivered right to your inbox. Southern Oregon Directory Featured Businesses Loading... 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