This is the last page from my great-great grandfathers self-published autobiography, which he finished in 1955 at the age of 94 (he lived to 103, like his son, my great-grandfather).
In looking over the preceding pages I am impressed by the fact that all that has been said refers to things that have been done, with no reference to the long list of things that might have been done but were not done. But the record is already too long. So I take leave of the patient reader with a very brief “summing up”:
I have lived a long life during which I have been blessed beyond expression in the all-enfolding love of two of the noblest and best of women: my mother, born 1837, died 1929; my wife, born 1869, married 1892, died 1947.
I have done a little work and have been amply rewarded. None of my children have ever brought the blush of shame to the face of either of their parents. Their affectionate regard for the home of thier childhood has been steadfast throughout the years. Now, my long day is nearly ended, my wages taken, I face the sunset and the approach of dark in comfort of body and peace of mind.
In a spirit of humility and resignation I can further say that, “forward though I canna see,” I neither guess nor fear.