Dear Me in 1983

Dear Me in 1983,

I am writing you now because I know this is a hard time in your life. You’re a junior in high school. You moved last year, and in loneliness you jumped into a relationship with a boy who wasn’t good for you. Now after months of your life revolving around him and imagining a future with him, he’s broken up with you. You’re having a hard time moving on, seeing anything good beyond the end of this relationship;

Don’t give up now. Your prince is right around the corner. In fact, he’s sitting in the school library right now, watching you sitting on the lawn eating your cafeteria pizza. He’s trying to get up his courage to ask you out. It’ll take him a few more months– he’s a guy who doesn’t make a move until he is sure of himself– but he’ll be worth the wait. In fact, he’ll be more than you even know to hope for right now.

Enjoy the waiting time too, though. Enjoy your 127 pound self ( And NO, your stomach most emphatically is not fat– please believe me on this point.) Enjoy that job at the carwash this summer. I’m not sure whether to tell you to steer clear of Roberto. He’s a little too old for you and he isn’t THE one, but he is kind and he is sweet, and let’s face it, he is FINE sitting there in his El Camino at that stoplight with the stereo blasting “I Wear My Sunglasses at Night.”

And your family? I know you think your family is too big and too loud and too….conspicuous. But you’ll get over that. It’ll take a decade or so, but eventually those pesty younger siblings will be some of your most treasured friends. When you head off to college, don’t forget to check in with them, and with your mom and dad. You’ll be busy studying and working (and smooching your soon-to-be fiance), but your family misses you, so keep in touch.

There are sad times coming, too, you see. I’m not sure if I should tell you this..in fact, maybe it was better you didn’t know this was coming..but your dad is only going to be around for five more years. Yes, I know he’s only 44. But there’s going to be an accident and a phone call and months of damp pillows in the dark of the night.

You’re going to make it. Your mom and your brothers and sisters are going to make it too. Somehow. But that time will rock your foundations. Keep the faith. Between now and then, hug Dad lots. In fact, give him a hug for me today, will you? Have someone snap some pictures of the two of you- you can’t ever have too many. Tell him how much he means to you. Treasure the time.

Don’t be afraid of what’s in store, though. It’s not nearly all sad. You’re going to have a great future. You’re going to be a nurse, like you dreamed of since age five. Being a mom is going to be more wonderful than you could ever imagine. Harder too. But oh, so worthwhile.

And you know how you said you’d never have more than four kids? You’re wrong. Blessedly wonderfully wrong. God has great plans for you, so get ready! You know the African doll and the Asian doll you played with as a child along with all the blond-haired ones? Your family is going to be just that colorful. You’ll fly thousands of miles to bring your babies home. And those homecomings will be just as wonderful as the moments when the doctor hands you the babies born from your body.

Trust God for your life. He won’t steer you wrong, even in the moments when you’re sure you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere. Treasure the little moments. Laugh lots. Be joyful always. The future is bright.

Love and Prayers,

Your 2007 Self