What I Leave Behind

I’ll leave you with a photo, a smile, and a song—My Sunday Best #76

True story. One morning, while I was walking my dog, Dennis, I found a blue notebook on the side of the road. It was covered with dirt, and the pages were stiff, but I could still open it. The faded print revealed it was a daily devotional intended for a young married couple. My first thought was that things didn’t work out so well and one of them tossed the book. But in reality, there’s no way I will ever know the true story of how it got there. Someone could have thrown it out a car window, or it just fell out of the trash truck.

For me, finding something someone else left behind is like playing a real-life game of Clue. It’s a sign of life proving someone was here before—a broken piece of a china plate, a key, a rusty nail, or my favorite find, an arrowhead. It’s like stepping into the life of the person who meticulously chiseled away at the stone until the edges were sharp and symmetrical. Or the person who served a home-cooked meal and then carefully washed the beautiful china plate, when it was still whole and unbroken.

Years ago, I left a pillow at a lodge in Idaho. We were playing a gig at Grand Targhee Ski Resort at the base of the Grand Tetons. The pillow was brand new and I’d only slept on it a few times. I can’t remember what made it so special, but it wasn’t just a five-dollar Walmart pillow. It had attributes that made it…expensive. Overnight, a snowstorm left our vehicle and our trailer buried in more than two feet of snow. As we trudged through the snow with all our equipment, my pillow stayed undisturbed on the nice dry bed. When were were several hours down the road, I realized I had forgotten it and called the lodge. You can guess how that went. Even though it may seem like such a small thing, it mattered to me at the time. Even today, a stiff neck as the result of a pillow is no laughing matter, it has to be just right—ask Goldilocks.

One thing I intentionally left behind was my dad’s ashes. The canister that held his ashes rode in the backseat of my car from Tennessee to the top of Berthoud Pass in Colorado. I spread them in the snow on a trail he used to ski. I knew the trail well, as I had also skied it when I was a teenager—back in the days when I would fearlessly stick my thumb out with my skis under my arm and hitch a ride with a stranger so I could float down the mountain on a trail through the trees, over and over again.

No one passes through this world unnoticed. We leave our handprints all over everything, touching the lives of others throughout time just by being who we are, and living our lives. Your gift to the world is you. Just so you know, I have seen that picture of you smiling, and it makes me smile every time. You not only make my life better, but you also make this world a better place. We’re not traveling alone, and for that, I am grateful.

The photograph is of the ski trail on Berthoud Pass in Colorado where I spread my Dad’s ashes.

What I Leave Behind
Written by Trisha Leone Sandora

I found a blue notebook on the side of a dirt road
Someone didn’t need it and threw it out the window
I brushed off the cover and opened it up
Inside there was a poem, from a long time ago

What I find, and what I leave behind
Sometimes are one and the same
Something to remind me I’ve been here before
Love will always find me wherever I go

I left my favorite pillow at a lodge in Idaho
It was kind of expensive and I still miss it so
Maybe someone is sleeping, dreaming of tomorrow
On a pillow I forgot, I guess I’ll never know

What I find, and what I leave behind
Sometimes are one and the same
Something to remind me I’ve been here before
Love will always find me wherever I go

I left a piece of my heart back in Colorado
High up on a mountain, ashes in the snow
On the trail through the trees, wildflowers grow
Nothing left but beauty above and below

What I find, and what I leave behind
Sometimes are one and the same
Something to remind me I’ve been here before
Love will always find me wherever I go

I’ll leave you with a photo, a smile, and a song
Just so you know you’re not traveling alone
Something good is waiting wherever you go
It could even be a poem on the side of the road

Listen to the song What I Leave Behind below or on Bandcamp