At 3 years old, my first grand daughter was sophisticated, affable, and articulate - or so she thought. Her vocabulary included words like "Lasterday," "Nexterday," and "Inaminnit" to communicate her concepts of time. Granted, these concepts were born, in part, from her perceptions of her father's procrastinations. "Dad, what doin' Lasterday?" "Cake, inaminnit." "Home Nexterday...kay?" But, I have found these words to be exceptionally versatile in communicating those pleasurable and unbounded memories of times, places, and events - the realities of which no longer fi nd place in our current time. Lasterday is a work of love, a flight of fancy, an effort to share with my beloved grandchildren, a cherished place, treasured times, and a sense of personal freedom that -like the refreshment taken from those cold and clear mountain waters of my youth - have run inexorably, as Life's river, out of my grasp and beyond my view; and which exist now, but only as memories. In Lasterday, I found an ability to communicate, to my dearest ones, something in me that had been locked away. I entrust the words to you. May they help you to unlock memories of sweet times and places passed from view that you will share with those you hold dear. Lasterday, I rode my bike, up and down the hills, at night. In the dell where I grew up, the stars are bright. I pray that, with all the help that I can give, and with God's blessings, my children and grandchildren will ride their own bikes into happy and productive lives to make cherished memories of Nexterday... that maybe, Inamminit they will share with those who are most precious.