I don’t know why people seek out fortune tellers. Why would you want to know the heartaches that lie ahead, the assurance that life will take your spouse and body and dreams?
He will be with his family tonight, Doctor, when he goes home, the deathless man says. Why should I tell him that tomorrow he is going to die? So that, on his last night with his family, he will mourn himself?…Suddenness. His life, as he is living it – well, and with love, with friends – and then suddenness. Believe me, Doctor, if your life ends in suddenness you will be glad it did, and if it does not you will wish it had.
Not me, I say. I do not do things, as you say, suddenly. I prepare, I think, I explain.
~ The one quotable text from Obreht’s The Tiger’s Wife I can’t recommend
We hope, with foreknowledge, to hedge our bets, if only mentally. We like to imagine that we can avert, if not preempt, the undesirable – in the least, prepare ourselves and explain it. But the suffering is bad enough. Do we really need to expect it, too? And the glad blessings? Will their surety really help us live differently? Halfway up the California mountain thirty years later, I look down at the girl I left behind on the other side of the country. I wish I could promise her the thousand joys she dare not believe, the love in unexpected places, friends and a mess of food around her table. I wish I could teach her to nurture herself, admonish her away from her follies. But far and past, she is out of my hands. And she is so frustratingly, so helplessly her. She won’t do it any other way.
Life hangs by a prayer but you take so much for granted in your unhappiness. You have community and, for all their sins, parents who cherish you.
Stupid girl. You don’t listen. You need to take better care of yourself. You eat too much ice cream. You can fool others and even yourself, but not your body. One day you will have to learn to eat, sleep, live all over again. These brick apartments suffocate you but one day you’ll mark your own path. You always do. You will drive through a painting of Montana mountain and sky, and survey the gleaming Pacific. There are many, many good people ready at the crossroads of your life to look out for you. I am sorry that life will become so unyielding you will stop singing for 10 years.
There’s a man waiting to find you. He wants to build you a new life and provide all you need. You don’t know the cost and gift of marriage. The walk down the aisle is just expensive trimming. Though he’ll disappoint you many times over, it’s that he chooses you everyday. You will squeeze and crush the heart he left in your hand. And in his eyes you will still be enough.
You will experience the power and genius of God. You will feel fingers and toes in your womb, touching you from the inside. Those hands and feet will one day come to refresh your grave, mark the place of your memory. She was here. You will put your baby to your breast in the rocking chair, seat of the highest office in the world. You will sing again. Sacrifice is a privilege, because it means a purpose greater than yourself. But you will embitter your child too, as your parents did you. The love of parents, our broken inheritance.
One day the lights will go out in your home and you will read to your men by candlelight. They will love the inflections of your voice.
I didn’t think people could change but you are proof. I’m proud of you! You will grow less rigid, softer with others, having learned how foolish you can be. Wisdom works backward. Your life will be a desert’s bloom, well tolerant of drought. And before the sun has set on your dreams, right here on the edge of this switchback, you will learn it is safe to stop hurting. Learn that you are more than your fears, more than your boy, more than your most unworthy moments, more than your achievements.
The loyalty of friends, the forgiveness of family, You will be wanted and needed. These are your gifts of grace. And the words. You will claim your place in a virtual world, a very real world, and somehow in all your struggles and humanness, make many people laugh and think. You will matter. Will it take 30 years for you to know it is All Right to breathe, to smile, to trust that life is worth it?
You’ve done well, my dear. Closing the wrong doors to love, choosing the right one. You will bring a beautiful, thoughtful boy into this world. And though life has knocked you flat beyond counting, you keep climbing. We will look each other in the eyes and I will tell you everything when you reach me.
Gently flowing story..
Smile, dreams will arises one day; there are just a lot of them waiting for us to let them shine in our lives.
Onward and upward. =)
I’m so grateful to have stumbled upon this and I’m curious to how the letter to my younger self would be like. Thank you for sharing this, it means a lot!
You can let me know if/when you write him. =) And I appreciate the follow.
Wonderfully written. A chant of life. Yes, we must keep climbing. Each of us has a personal mountain to climb.
Thanks. We keep one foot in front of the other. Hope you saw the last comment I left over there.
Which comment do you mean?
Don’t recall at this point. It was a few wks back and I left one under one of your posts.
Yes and I truly thank you for that. Only very few people follow my blog. But it is fine since it is an amateur thing I do in my free time.
This so beautifully resonant . I am following you because of this post 😊🌺
I love knowing that. Thanks. Welcome. =)
Thank you! I’m trying to carve out time amid toddler chasing to read some more lovely posts 😂
Good exercise for body and mind. =)
Isn’t it just!😊
Just like the little bears porridge. Just right. 😉
=) Thx.
Wonderful. Helped me when I needed it today.
Aww. Love and well-wishing…xxxxx
Diana
Thank you for dropping by my blog!
Very well written. I love it. Obviously looking beyond this life to something much more profound and meaningful.
The richer and more meaningful were assumed here. Thank you.
Outrageously moving and beautiful. Thank you!
I must say
I love the outrageously.
Thank you.