Who will remember you?  All of us, I think, like to suppose that after we are gone from the planet, someone will remember us.  Particularly if we are, to use a loaded term, famous.  If that is the case, we may well be remembered as long as humanity walks the earth.  For good or ill.
     "I am Taushiro.  I have something that no one else in the world has.  One day when I am gone from the world, I hope the world remembers."  So said the last member of this forgotten tribe living in the jungles of South America.'
     It's a poignant observation.  And frightfully accurate.  If not for the article from which this quote is taken, this person is absolutely right:  when he is gone, no one will know that the tribe had even existed.

     It's easy to say that this is simply the way of sentient existence.  It's easy to say that it doesn't matter.  It's easy to say that once we are gone, we will not care that no one remembers us.
     Then why do we long so much for it to not be true?  We may say that we have come from nothingness and that we will eventually return to nothingness, but can we really square this with our fundamental longing to be loved and remembered?
    It seems that there is something we are missing here, something that, however we define it, brings this together.
     Dare I say God?