I heard a thought a while ago that came from the UK graffiti artist Banksy, and it made me rather sad.
When your name is said for the last time, that means the memory of you is now dead and gone forever. And that will happen to all of us.
However, having worked in the temple for about a month now, even though it's currently closed for renovations (I did go help with the cleanup one Saturday, and I'll tell you, only for Jesus will I set up Christmas lights in September, because I hate how Christmas is getting so big), I had another thought that occurred to me. As I sat there helping out and participating in all of these rituals for our honored dead, it occurred to me that, for each person who has lived on the planet, we say their names multiple times in the temple as they go from baptism, to confirmation, to initiatory, to endowment, and then to sealings.
Very likely, for most of the humans on the planet, the last time their name will be said out loud will be in an LDS temple.
And there's something beautiful about that. Instead of their memory dying and being fully erased, their memory is being invoked in rituals that will allow them to live forever in the presence of God, if they choose to accept those ordinances. So maybe in some sense the line from Banksy is true, that you die again when your name is said for the last time. But if your name is said for the last time in a Mormon temple, it's a deliberate attempt to make sure that your name, and your life, and those relationships most important to you, will be remembered and continued in heaven forever. It's our way of making this "second death" deliberate and meaningful.
I think that's rather poetic and nice.