Growing old with you

I had seen you growing old raising our kids. The kids never existed, and so did you. But last night I saw the book I gave you, on your bookshelf. You never gave me any books. But I kept buying the books you read for myself. Now I pass on the books to others. Someday I will pass it on to my kids. Will a part of you be passed on to them that day? Will a part of me also be passed on, similarly?