The Book I Leave Behind

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Suggested listening: Sara Groves' "You Cannot Lose My Love"
(Grab your tissues. This is not a drill, people.)

When my mom died, she left behind notes for the three of us kids and our spouses.

When my mom died, I had no idea I was pregnant.

As my pregnant belly grew, I read that precious single-page note over and over, mourning the loss of my mom and grieving both her and the fact that my daughter Laila would never know her.

As much as I loved the immense thoughtfulness of that note, the sight of her gorgeous handwriting on the page, the wonderful weight of her words, I couldn’t help but want more – more of my mom’s wisdom on marriage, on motherhood, on faith, on life in general.

And I couldn’t help but think ahead to Laila, to what I would leave behind for her.

And so, I started not just a note but a whole book for her.

In the early pages of the book, she’ll find stories from my pregnancy, from the night her dad put her crib together, from the early Sunday morning she was born.

Over the past two years, I’ve tried to share little highlights of our days together as a dynamic duo, some silly stories, and general pieces of wisdom:
  • like she’s never too old to come home, just like I did when I was nursing my first broken heart.
  • like learning how to apologize to someone you love is crucial, just like I discovered with her.
  • like living life with humor brings light to the darkest storms, just like I learned from my mom.
There’s no set schedule of when I write her notes, just whenever something happens that I think, “She’ll need to know this.” And I’ll keep doing that until her book is full.

I hope that I’m there when she graduates high school, when she falls in love for the first time, when she lands her first big girl job, when she gets married, when she becomes a mother.

I hope.

But if I’m not.

But if I’m not, she’s still got a piece of me.

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