I went to the hospital to visit the father of a girl in one of my lectures and ate some cucumbers in his room. When he heard me Crunching on them, he wanted some too, and he ate his with the same crunching sound. Five days later, though, he died. I still have a vivid memory of the tiny crunching he made when he chewed his pieces of cucumber. People leave strange, little memories of themselves when they die.