My mind has become cluttered since suffering my Traumatic Brain Injury, or TBI, during the car accident on January 29th, 1983. If I do not record the happenings of an event when it occurs, that set of events can be lost forever. My mind and body have made remarkable leaps and bounds to return to my normal state of being. But, those leaps and bounds become minuscule compared to the forever time as it surrounds my pulsating and vibrating human form, during the forward march of life. My attempt at memoirs did not begin until early in the 1990's, once I could think sensibly again. I try to continue using that memoir writing style. It becomes so hard as each day passes and catapults ne into an unknown future. My memoirs may be completely incomplete. What more can I do? I cannot. I must keep breathing in my world, lost to time.