Personal Binders
It would seem that this account, along with the mortality it chronicles, may be approaching its final segments. That’s not mine to declare, of course, and the Lord may have other, controlling ideas. Whatever His dispositions, our eightieth birthdays, Valerie’s and mine, have now occurred, in the early part of the Year of Our Lord 2021, and I at least feel a pervading sense of borrowed time. Valerie tends to differ on that score, particularly on days when her blood pressure is up where it belongs and she therefore has the vigor necessary to visit our beloved Websters and Millars and participate in the spoiling of Zoe and Miriam.

Partly in celebration of our longevity, the darling ladies of our next generation have been organizing a major family reunion around the coming Fourth of July. This will be entirely their show; Lord willing, I’ll survive to chronicle it in these pages. Apart from that, my rôle will be to preside, anciently and patriarchally, and to distribute to descendants in attendance these individualized extracts from the hard-copy version of Such A Life.
I do hope, as expressed in the covering letters, that at least some of these will serve their recipients as the eventual starting points of their own personal histories.

The binders vary in thickness, corresponding to the frequencies with which images or mentions of the recipients have arisen in these pages. The skinniest binder is destined for the adorable Lucy Valerie Olsen, her Granny’s only namesake in her generation. Since she came along, ten years ago, our visits to her home in Keokuk have been less frequent than in earlier decades, when my decaying body tolerated the road more gracefully, and so Lucy’s name and face appear here correspondingly less often.
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