A Letter to Myself — Christmas 1976

Dear Joy,

It’s me.

You.

Right here, alive and well, albeit 46 years in the future. There are a few things I wish you could know right now as you begin your 21st year of life. Listening I know you are, as you always loved a great story. If only I could, I’d be the voice in your head, helping you make better choices along the way. But if that were so, I couldn’t have come up with all this great advice. You’ll take life and devour it on your own terms, even if you break down a few times on the road to 67.

In 1976, few understand the spirit of an independent woman. Keep on rebelling and questioning every bit of dogma the establishment throws your way. With few worthy mentors in your life, blaze your own trail, leaving others to shake their heads. Forget about the judgmental nay-sayers. If they’re talking about you, you’re doing something worth talking about. Something to live by.

Outwardly, keep being the good girl and fly under the radar. For Now. Keep watching and thinking. When the time is right bolt right out the gate, running as fast, free, and far as you can. Wide open spaces are what you need. They’ll be plenty of messy mistakes in which you’ll need room to heal and grow. You’ve been given the best foundation and soon you’ll find the need to fly with your own two wings.

Through the years, some mistakes will haunt you for a lifetime. Just remember, life isn’t black and white. Those grey areas are riddled with trip wires. You’ll give in when you should have gotten out. You’ll escape when your physical life is threatened. Under your heart, you’ll raise two human beings into fine young men that you’ll love more than yourself, even gifting them the very color of your eyes. For far too long, the past will hold you back until life propels you into the most wonderful future you could imagine.

All the while, you’ll have the luxury of a family that adores their little one, until you no longer need adoring because you are no longer adorable or little. By then, life will be your own.

Remember the pictures you used to draw of that magical place you’d never seen? Way out in the land of the setting sun where the wind blows wild and free? Deep in the heart of the Golden west, where the desert meets the hills? Where the moonbeams play in the shadowed Glen? It’s surely the loveliest place I know but it will take you a few decades to get there.

Living the rest of your life there, you’ll curse the wild horses when they poop in your own front yard, and then worry about them when they don’t come around. In that beautiful desert, you’ll choose your new family of friends carefully. You’ll find the God you thought you’d lost had carried you from some pretty bad fires. Don’t worry. Even when you think you’ve lost it all in a sea of despair, love will find you. Your story is one of happiness, and that includes the ending.

Through the decades between us, a few lifelong cornerstone friends will know when you need them, and you’ll know the same of them. Through the years, final earthly Goodbye’s will break your heart, but only because you loved so deeply. Life’s worthy trade off.

At times, your head will steer you in directions that make sense, add up, and look right. Your heart will lead in other directions that feel cozy and right for a while. But your own true North can be found by listening to the voice that comes from a much deeper place, speaking in quiet knowing tones. Find comfort and your truth in that voice. Listen, even if it takes all your strength to follow.

That voice will lead you to a high school reunion far in the future, where you’ll reunite with a true and dear heart-friend. Together, your life will bloom into one few in this world get to experience. With true love comes heartbreaking grief for one. A widow’s burden will be yours to bear, but not before you are safely home in the desert you will love so deeply.

You’ve had many dreams before and many more will come in your lifetime. Some will be irreparably broken. That’s just the way of life. One thing is certain. You don’t envision hollow dreams.

Do, in your own original way and time, what is YOU. If people are shocked, maybe they need shocking. Your story will always be a unique one, with only you knowing the plot twists that’ll eventually see you through. Be the courageous and strong woman your mother and father raised you to be. Be your own best friend, because in life, you’ll never find one more true.

You are worthy of the stars and the moon. Believe it. Somewhere far in the future, you’ll find that cabin on the lake with the golden sun setting just so as you write your next blog while the soup simmers on the stove. Loneliness will come and go, but a settled heart will get you through. Don’t abandon your will to meet the expectations of others. Your decisions are worthy of self-respect. Second guessing is a waste of time when, in reality, you just need to choose your next best steps.

Joy of 1976, you are a beautiful, thoughtful, and resourceful young woman. Your future adventures will give me material for books full of amazing stories we’ll share with the world. Go live your best life, as you will. Trust me. It’ll be an amazing and adventurous one. From far in the future, I look back wishing you peace and love at this beautiful time of year.

Merry Christmas.