The oldest memories are the most persistent. Perhaps it's because we've had the longest time to think about them- and they've been petrified by the drip, drip, drip of repeated visitation- but no memory- near or far- ever seems old. When I think of things in the past the distance between then and now is obliterated and I experience them as part of my present reality- as things that happened to the person I still am.
The essential self continues- even though its physical circumstances, attachments and beliefs may have changed several times in the course of the life it's looking back on.
Ailz asked everybody at the dinner table what they thought happened after death. One person said death was the end, two others said said they didn't really know and I initially kept quiet but then- when Ailz drew me in- started talking about life on the astral- and how there are hospitals there for new arrivals and work for those who want it and how things get less physical the deeper one goes in. I made reference to the post-mortem experiences of T.E. Lawrence. For me this is all fact- and I'll talk about it as fact-- for as long as anyone shows or feigns interest- but I won't get into an argument. One knows what one knows and thinks what one thinks- and debating points never won anyone over who wasn't already halfway there.