Since I have no more nesting to do, I dug out my own baby book this evening. The pages reveal a time when  my mom waited for me just like I’m waiting for Bronson. Throughout the book, I was struck by the people who invested in my life even before I arrived.

My parents waited for me. My brother tried to name me Pizza Racoon, an obvious sign of his early affection for me. (He loves Pizza and often wore a Racoon hat on his head.) Many names from the baby shower list are familiar – family and friends that I still know. They didn’t just give me a pink dress; they went on to invest in my life. They knew me when I stopped wearing pink dresses. They knew me when I was less than adorable.

My life teems with generous people.

And it didn’t end with baby showers. With every year more people bless me. Mysterious checks in the mail and Snack Shack tabs paid off while volunteering at Living Waters. Donations for traveling to the other side of the world – twice. People I’ll never know who set up scholarship funds – scholarships that helped me go to school. Meals paid for. Medical bills covered.

Ryan and I were discussing moving across country and how some businesses provide funds for such moves. I had to remind him – and myself – that we never actually paid to move across country. Strangers, friends and family members covered the whole cost with their generosity.

And as I gaze on Bronson’s room begging him to come out and see it, I’m amazed that nearly everything in it was paid for or given to us by people in our lives.

It’s easy to fear what’s happening next, to hoard our money in preparation. It’s easy to walk by people in need or to hear of people going through major transitions and do nothing. It’s easy to be ungenerous.

But as a life punctuated with people who chose to do just the opposite – both with their money and time – I can’t help but be humbled by gratitude. And I’m thankful that my son’s life is about to begin with a similar legacy – so many people generously investing in him before he’s even born.

Note: This was written on July 13th – the evening before my water broke.

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