I live in South Florida with my wife, Kimberly, and our two sons, Joshua, and Jawanza. I am a lover of the written word and have read more than 1,000 books in my life. There is no greater gift than written and preserved wisdom that can be passed on. 

I was the youngest of eleven children, and my father was 59 when I was born. By the time I was 10 he had developed what I now know was Alzheimer’s and was hospitalized; he did not even remember my name. My mother passed away in 1984. The only written memories I have of them are the inscription that my father left inside the family Bible, and a poem my mother liked and wrote down called "Monday's Child." My oldest brother, Harold, was 33 years older than I am and in his later years we talked daily either on the phone or in person. He was full of stories, of the places he had gone the things he had seen, and the people he had loved. I kept telling myself I ought to write that down, but I waited too long. In his late 80s, just like with my dad, Alzheimer's robbed my brother of all his precious memories. I never met my grandparents on either side of the family, and what I know about them would not fill a thimble. I knew my mom and dad, but I was too busy to stop, talk, and write down all those important experiences that made them who they were. Your life and the lives of those you love matter. We want to make sure those memories are written down and kept around for years to come.