Let’s get real, it was scary to type 41. I will be 41 in ten years. Glup.
Today’s Blogtober challenge is to write a letter to ourselves in ten years. I wanted to tweak this topic and write a letter to my daughter, who will be 13. But I would be listing a lot of rules and cliche nuggets of motherly wisdom. There will be plenty of time for that, little one. Plenty of time for that.
I’m comfortable with the idea of aging and entering my forties. That’s not entirely true but, I’m less comfortable with the idea of my daughter being 13. The last three years and flown by and the idea of her riding a bike without training wheels and going on a sleepover is scary and surreal. Sending her off to middle school? There’s no way that can happen within the next decade, right?
Before dinner, Ingrid, Harper (our dog) and I went on a walk around the block. It took forever. Ingrid fell down, twice. She brought along one of her “big girl coloring books” (aka, one of Dan’s old Moleskine’s notebooks) to color pictures of leaves and flowers. Ten years from now I know we won’t have these simple, slow moments. Sure, we’ll come together to celebrate family traditions but we’ll be focusing on our separate interests too. Ten years from now, I hope to remember her exactly as she is today: aims to please, has a vivid imagination, pretends to attend “Disney school” and is obsessed with princesses. She was genuinely thankful that we painted her room. She’s exhausting, hilarious and weird.
Enough about today. Let’s look ahead to 2014. I apologize in advance for the confusing use of pronouns:
It’s 2024 and you’re killin’ it in your 40s. 31 year old me doesn’t have any words of wisdom or lofty goals for myself in 10 years. I hope you’re loving life, having fun and have finally stopped giving a shit what other people think. Why did you waste so much of your brain power on this in your 20s?
Let’s assume you (or I, or we?) celebrated the big four-o eating, drinking and laughing your way through New Orleans with loved ones. Great choice. Let’s also assume Ingrid is a respectful, 13 year old. Work is going well, right? I hope you’ve welcomed another little kiddo into the family. You’re focusing on your marriage and laughing every, single day with Dan. Looks like you’ve lost those last few pounds. I knew you could do it! If you haven’t, be happy with the body you have and take care of those arthritic knees!
Here are a few lingering questions:
- Was the last season of Mad Men everything you dreamed it would be?
- Do they ever make a Harry Potter prequel?
- Are you still paying off your student loans?
- Did we ever seriously address equal pay for women? Yes, finally!
- Remember when “butts” were all the rage in 2014?
- When was the last time you heard the song Let it Go? A week ago? Amazing.
- How’s everything else going? Does Hillary take the cake in 2016? Awesome.
To jog your memory, here’s what’s going on right now in your little world: You are trying your best to make things better every day, for you and your family. You’re working hard now to create the life you (or I, we?) hope to have like, now, in 2024. To focus on your dreams, to keep writing, to support Dan and his dreams. To get a piece of land up north. To wake up every morning smiling. You hope to stop acquiring so much shit and be happy with what you have. I hope you kept up with writing and started putting yourself out there. Like, scary out there. I hope you went on adventures and camped, a lot. I hope you got over your crippling fear of failure. I hope you’ve experienced gut-wrenching failure. Recoverable failure, but still gut-wrenching failure. Most importantly, I hope you’re living in the moment with the ones you love!
Stay true to yourself, smile a lot and call your mom!
You got this!