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Up until a month ago, popular author and neurologist Oliver Sacks was in great health, even swimming a mile every day. Then, everything changed: the 81-year-old was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer.
Not sad. Poignant. Sacks, so much integral with our awareness of awareness, as if an extension to or interface with dimension beyond our individualities. He won't be missed other than, so temporarily, by those who briefly live on as his family or associates. He won't be missed because he will continue to be with humanity as long as the scope of his mind is inherent as potential within mankind -- to be programmed with the data base of discovery and knowledge by such as Sacks. The mind lives on . . . exponentially dispersed amongst minds as memes of mentality. Information.
So should we all leave even a mundane or microscopic legacy to those who continue within the genetic flow of ideas, heritages, cultures, arts and sciences, friendships. For each of us is, in some proportion of provision to others, as Oliver Sacks. A smile, an idea, an inspiration, a declaration . . . a donation . . . .
And the seeds of sentience and sentiment are sown. And ideas germinate and mutate.
And the fertile fields of astounding gestational neurology will bring forth another crop of which there will be another and another and another of such exceptionality as . . . . Oliver Sacks. And the rest of us will be thus enriched in mind.