A letter to myself

When I was about 16 years old, many, many years ago, the day before we left our beloved home country for one further south, I spent the last evening with my best friend. We chatted and reminisced about our childhood days and wondered about the future. Then, when my friend went to refill our hot chocolate mugs, I picked up a scrap of paper and wrote a letter ... to myself.

I wrote how I felt, where I was, who I was with and what I hoped for, for the future. I then tucked it in my bag, the next day we emigrated. I left behind friends and family, left behind a boyfriend and pets. It was hard, I think harder on me now than it was then when the invincibility of youth carried me through.  I had that letter with me for many years until once again I changed countries as well as hemispheres and with moves and time, the letter disappeared.

 Fast forward a few years, I am now married, sharing a mortgage and Christmas decorations to take down.

As I was packing away the baubles and bells, I remembered my letter to myself and sat down and wrote another. It was a short note, listing what we were doing, what the cats were up to, where we lived and what I hoped for in the coming new year. I tucked the note in a box and hid it to the Christmas decorations box.

As the years passed, I wrote more letters and added cards made by the boys and special cards from special folk.

Today, as usual I wrote myself my annual letter and on a whim looked back at the others. I never re-read them, usually only glancing at the previous year's note. This time I looked back at all them.

I have (minus one or two) twenty letters to myself... twenty years of tidying away decorations, twenty years of thoughts and fears, twenty years of stories.

Plans for jobs found and jobs lost, moves, emigration, immigration and scraping enough money to buy a home.

Thoughts on the baby, the toddler, the second baby, the tweenies, the teenagers and now the young men that fill our lives. Tears for those that have died, both friends, family as well as pets.

Fears for the future, thoughts on the past and what is happening now, each year, as I write.

Each one has a mention of the weather - the snow, the rain, the stifling heat. Each one always says what Himself is doing - washing up, pottering around, walking the baby/riding bikes with the boys, packing away the tree.

I found myself reading them all - I never done that before .... I felt the hope and optimism, the worry and concerns, the pride and delight in the words that I wrote to myself.

And it made me realise that I need to get on with my 'grand plan' that I must not hesitate any longer. If I get anything from these letters from me, I get new strength, greater determination and a belief in 'm*y*s*e*l*f.

In me.

Watch this space!


#art  #hawthorn