In the end, all we may become is a muddy pile of memories, that even though parts of our lives shift and change dramatically, we may never realize it at all. Closure, without knowing it's closure. A good use of parallel mysteries to frame the protagonist's descent into dementia.

next up: margaret atwood and her rendition of love as a societal construct.

got to the end of this (longish) book very quickly. too quickly. i kept thinking "is he SERIOUSLY going with this trope??? really stephen king, r e a l l y?" but ended up crying as i read and reread the last few passages. well played, stephen king.