Imagine sitting down with your wife and children once a week

Imagine sitting down with your wife and children once a week. Just for an hour. To write down what you learned, The big wins. The quiet lessons. The moments that matter. What worked. What failed. What should never be forgotten.

Now imagine every three months, you write your son or daughter a letter. It covers how they have grown, what you are proud of, and what they still need to strengthen. It is honest. Loving. Clear. You gather those letters into a book, a living record of your fatherhood. Advice. Encouragement. Warnings. Blessings.

All there when they need it: When they marry. When they hold their first child. When they face a trial you can no longer protect them from.

Now fill that book with early photos, Of your family, your home, the dog they grew up with. Of grandparents visiting at Christmas. Of scraped knees, birthday candles, and quiet fireside moments.

Imagine your children did not have to start from scratch eery generation, blindly feeling their way through life, repeating your mistakes. Imagine they began where you left off. And their children began where they left off.

Wisdom, compounded. Memory, preserved. A real inheritance. A true Legacy.