Dear future me,
With autumn three days away from its official announcement life feels like it could never be more real, possible and glorious. Every day I wake to new sunshine, new possibilities and new challenges and twenty-five feels like the perfect age for me to be all that I can be.
I want you to cherish these moments. At twenty-six, thirty, fifty, I want you to remember how nice it was when D came home full of smiles and love. I need you to remember opening the windows to our little Madeline apartment-house, watering the container garden and having neighbor children knock on your door. Remember how red and pink the roses outside your window were and how refreshing the fountains downtown were to your soul. Those are good memories and they should be reminders of the beautiful beginning you once had.
Even the hard days should be untucked from your memories folds and held out for laughs and thanksgiving. I hope you never forget how much you missed your family while you felt completely at home with your husband. Always remember wishing for a backyard and a little acreage and the journeys contentment made you take. Remember the ache of wanting children and the various nursery themes you pinned. Recall the challenges of making new friends, forging community and making a life all on your own.
Don’t forget the silly, small things either. Remember how much you loved Chummy from Call the Midwives and how excited you were to see coconut oil in Aldis? Never forget the experiences you gained from teaching library and how good it felt to lead a good p.e. class. At twenty-five you had a hankering for Pandora’s Heavenly Lullaby channel, flats and crafting beautiful, handmade things from scraps and vinyl. You and D ate a lot of Hibachis and played Minecraft; Stepping Heavenward was your favorite book.
Future me, never forget the good, the bad and the beautiful.
Maybe one day you’ll find yourself too busy with children, laundry and other noble pursuits that blogging ceases to be your main source of creativity. You may be battling new challenges like which cloth diapers to order or how to treat an illness you weren’t expecting. Life will be different from what it is now at the autumn of your twenty-fifth year and that’s good.
But, future me, never forget the beginning. Never forget the sweet and challenging moments of early married life. Don’t forget the thrill of being in charge of your first classroom, the awkward moments of forming new friendships and the tightness of newly-wed’s budget. Don’t forget how much you delighted in Dalton whirling you around the room and remember those fictional characters you learned to love so much.
These days were the golden bricks you put down. Travel back once in a while and remember each one — tell them to your kids and enjoy as they put their own bricks down too. Future me, be the beautiful soul you wanted to be back at twenty-five and love your Heavenly Lord like the bride you are.
p.s. if you could write your future self what would be your top three items of discussion?