At the End, In the Beginning

Strange, now as I slowly edge closer to the end, I think more about the beginning. I wonder whether that was also true for those in my long line before me -- my father, my grandfather, his....... I wish that I could travel back through a wormhole of memory and gather up all their most important memories. Because memories are great teachers, and maybe they don’t really disappear, lost forever. That they are there, somewhere, lying around, hidden, forgotten, waiting to be found. So that we might follow back our own trail of existence through time. To know for completion, to learn, and to know how we came to be. Our story. And to share with those just ahead, for them to understand that they, too, are part of a continuum, an unbroken chain, one that stretches far back before time, and far forward beyond what will be time remembered.