Returns

I'd had an idea when I started this blog. A simple way to record a bit of history regarding people I knew who never had access to the internet. They had, as all did before an online community existed, faded into history where those who never accomplished any amount of fame or received any personal recognition went to be forever forgotten except by family and in time forgotten by that too.



Lord knows I tried, and did get a few close to me completed. Yet life trips us up even when our set goals are good.

Now the purpose of this blog almost seemed like a warning. And the number of people dying swelled enough for me to shut down. Depression is quite ugly but quite real.

When a generation passes, it's like watch living history, heave aside the end of a final chapter. So many lives once lived vibrantly suddenly gone. Their society erased.

I almost expected a certain silence to step in, a hush of sorrow, or something to mark the time and their passing. Nothing happened. Millions of families experienced the passing, yet nothing happened that made me feel the final breath of that chapter of living history. It was gone. Period.

World War II men and women gone. Before them World War I men and women gone. Before them Civil War men and women gone. Before them War of 1812 men and women gone. Before them Revolutionary War men and women gone. As it had been through history back to the first generation of true humans, and even before them.

Not once did time hesitate to recognize what they did. Therein lies the lesson. Time is the master.