Of Course They Needed To

Time Goes On, And Your Life Is Still There, And You Have To Live It. After A While You Remember The Good Things More Often Than The Bad. Then, Gradually, The Empty Silent Parts Of You Fill Up With Sounds Of Talking And Laughter Again, And The Jagged Edges Of Sadness Are Softened By Memories.

...now He Saw The Familiar Wide River Beside The Path Differently. He Saw All Of The Light And Color And History It Contained And Carried In Its Slow - Moving Water; And He Knew That There Was An Elsewhere From Which It Came, And An Elsewhere To Which It Was Going

Keep A Green Tree In Your Heart And Perhaps The Singing Bird Will Come.

The Writer After All Is Only Half The Book, The Other Half Is The Reader.

So Actually, There Could Be Parents-of-the-parents-of-the-parents-of-the Parents?