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Things that keep me up at night: What would my last name be if we inherited our last names from our mother? Why do I have a faster swim pace in a 1.2-mile swim than a 400-meter swim? And of course there is midnight panic of a giant typo on the front page. I’m sorry to report that your local newspaper editor has yet to win a spelling bee.
Almost a decade ago, a family friend introduced my kids to the game of “Would You Rather?” My son has managed to keep the spirit alive. First, he raises one eyebrow, takes a deep breath, and, with a smirk on his lips, spits out the most ridiculous scenarios you’ve ever heard.
For example he might say: “Would you rather be on an island with the person you hated the most but with the best sushi in the world, except your arm is broken and your nose bleeds constantly, but you’re a billionaire and you can teleport, but only for five minutes, but you know an asteroid is on its way and you could die any minute OR…”
This is my issue. His scenarios are so long that I forget what the first choice is by the time he gets to the second choice. My preference is something short and gross: “Would you rather lick the bottom of your shoe or a slimy toad?”
My kids are at the age where instead of competing for my attention, I miss them. Teenagers, need I say more? I try to come up with things that might engage them and I was silently thrilled when my time capsule idea caught their attention.
After much discussion, we settled on making one that we’ll open in 10 years and one we’ll open in one year (because we agreed that we are impatient).
We found a solid shoe box and filled it up with funny polaroids, report cards and other small mementos.
Then we sat down to write letters to our future selves. For someone who basically writes thousands of words every week for a living and has to push through no matter what, I caught a bad case of writer’s block.
If I’m being honest, thinking about the unknown gives me a touch of anxiety. I have lived long enough to know that most beautiful things in life aren’t meant to be had forever and that a decade is ample time to lose loved ones. With the what-ifs swirling in my head, the future can be equally promising and daunting.
I was obviously overthinking this exercise. I realized at the core I had to face the truth that the time would soon come when my kids would grow up and leave home.
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Still this letter to my future self was stuck. I think if I can’t get something on paper by this weekend I’ll consider cheating and slip this edition of the newspaper and call it good.
As for my kids, I could tell they enjoyed writing letters to their future selves; their twinkle of excitement about their futures gave me a boost. I can’t wait to see the beautiful adults they will be. I can imagine that in 10 years they’ll be looking down at me and I’ll be feeling small as they hug me tight.
I saw a quote that said, “You will spend most of your life knowing your children as adults; it’s only for a brief time that you know them as children.”
And now I have one more thing to add to the things that keep me up at night.
