My life, or at least what deserves that name, is an extraordinarily happy life with some strokes of fate. It spans the time between May 6, 1906, the day of my birth, and May 24, 1986, the day my wife and companion Eveline passed away. If there is little mention of my wife in these pages dedicated to her, it does not mean that she held a small place in my life and thoughts. On the contrary, almost from the day of our first meeting, she was so intricately woven into my existence that to speak of me or of her is one and the same. Her presence, or rather her absence, determined the texture of my entire life. What more can I say than that our marriage was one of those that would make La Rochefoucauld's words ring false? "Fulsere vere candidi mihi soles..." Likewise, my sister.