As one gets older, ones memory, as the rest of us, begin to fade. This reality prompted the pages under this cover.
As time fades and our days are no longer incumbered with long to do list, we sit and remember and ponder. Not what we were thinking two minutes ago, that has vanished. What has it all been about? Who am I? Have I made a difference?
Getting old is what we live for, so why can't we enjoy it? It is too darn inconvenient. Why do old folks seem to live in the past? The present is bland, boring and depressing at best. The future is worry-sum and bleak. The past recollections can be selective.
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