For the past couple weeks I have been sorting through and pitching out much of Cheryl’s punding piles that she had squandered away all over her office area. Many of these are simply random collections of old and very old birthday and Christmas cards.

Today I discovered a small envelop with a picture that had been taken of us at a formal dance in 1969. A treasure it is to be sure. But the letter makes reference to me as though I know the writer. She sent it to Cheryl at her address in St. Bernard.

I have no memory of this event. I have no memory of Ginny. Ginny did not pass along her last name. She only passed along her address on the envelope. Who is Ginny? To be continued…

This picture so old that I did not have a mustache or old wrinkled skin or gray hair. I was eighteen and so is Cheryl.

Carpe Diem.