Young

The other day I received a Christmas card from a couple who is dear to me. Years ago, I worked with the wife. Her husband always writes something funny and wonderful in the card as well. He doesn't leave it up to her to sign the card. I opened the card and there smiling up at me was a picture of my younger self. I turned the photo over, and it was Christmas 1979, which made me 21. It was our office Christmas party, and I have forgotten many things over the past 33 years, but I remember that day. I am sitting on the lap of a coworker. Nothing racy. He said he would be Santa and I remember teasing him that he had no Santa costume. A short while before, we had dated for a couple of months. I know it's a bad idea to date someone at work, but he and I handled it well and we ended up being just fine with it. He was several years older and at that age, those years made a difference. He seemed such a man of the world to me, and we stopped dating when he said I was sweet and innocent and he would only corrupt me. That was partly true, but mostly we just "weren't into each other" as people say today. But the way he phrased it was gallant, wasn't it? He died a few years ago, and to see the younger me and the younger him, well it made me very happy.

I am young and fresh faced, bright eyed and my hair is all long and shiny. Back then I had no idea how pretty I was. I have read things like "a letter to my younger self." December 1979 I had just joined a fundamentalist Christian church, a decision that would give me unique experiences, but a lot of pain as well. It was a path that would lead me to my future marriage and those two wonderful boys who would become my sons.

Do I want to write a letter to the 21-year-old me? Nah. If I could talk to her, would I give her any advice? No. I think what I would do is hug her and say the first thing I thought of when I saw the photo: "I love you."

Susan