I honestly expect all the voltages between synapses in my brain to go to zero. I expect the same for my dog, my cat, my wife and kids, and for you, too. I don't expect you to remember me, but those of my family that outlive my zeroing out probably will.
What I can no longer fathom, here in my late fifties, is that so very many people cling to a belief in some ongoing existence after death in the complete absence of any evidence for such a thing, and with such a strong case against the possibility. I, too, once thought of it as an attractive concept, but I don't think that I ever was convinced of such an oddity even in my churchy days. Not after about the same age that I gave up on Santa Claus, at least.