We visited our son Clinton's family in Grand Forks Sunday through yesterday. Their little son Lucas is eleven months old, and with about one month intervals visiting with them, we can easily see how fast he grows and learns. Grandchildren reach two generations into the future and guarantee our genetic line will continue.
Since that crocodile crawled out of the swamp and bit me with cancer, I've thought a lot about mortality. It's given me reason to begin this web log. I want to leave some kind of record of a life lived besides some brief obituary in a newspaper. Future medical tests will answer whether the surgery eliminated the problem, but in any event, the time to start recording is now.
Researching the future is impossible. Time travel hasn't been invented yet. We only dream of the future and live in the present. Unfortunately, research into my ancestors' lives has not penetrated the thick wall that stands between us those five or six generations back. They've left no record, the tablet is blank. Reasons can be guessed: illiteracy, indifference, lack of time. At 64, more of my years have passed than remain, so I will do my best to keep from breaking the link between those ancestors we have knowledge of and my descendents.
