((Brother has comp.))<br/><br/>The first entry was not in Vergil's hand, but rather his Grandfather's.  In fact, several of the first pages were in his hand.  The one of note though was the third of May, thirteen years ago...<br/><br/><em>Today is my grandson's birthday.  We went shopping together, myself, Karina, my daughter Vergil's mother, and of course little Vergil himself.  The little guy is growing so fast.  It seemed like yesterday that I was helping Karina change diapers, as well as picking up food and other things to help her out while she tended the house.  Maybe it was fate that led our little group to the music store that day, but my grandson's ears seem to perk up when a violin solo of an artist long forgotten reached his ears.  He asked what it was and I smiled and told him that sound was that of one of the best instruments that was ever created, to which his reply was simple but I'd remember for a long time to come.  "Do you think I can play the violin?"</em>