As I get older, John, I increasingly sense my own mortality.
This awareness sometimes comes in the way of pivotal, life-changing moments.
One of which happened 2 years ago, when I thought about how my daughter might one day view my life’s work and the Notes I write.
Which book of mine might she read? Which course would she take? If any, because to her I’ll probably always just be “Oh, Dad…!”
Then I had the idea, “What if I wrote one book, drawn from the Notes, that said everything the others said, combined? What if it told her how much she’ll always be loved? How powerful she’ll always be? What if it had happy art and illustrations? And it taught her that our magnificence does not exist because of what we do, be, or have… that we breathe is enough?
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