Chin Up And To Pieces, Kiddo

A Twitter pal/fellow blogger of mine was just written up in the New York Times Magazine for her project compiling old-fashioned letters from women in their 30's and 40's written to their younger self and the response was overwhelming. I read and enjoyed several of them and was inspired to write my own:

Dear 20-something Milton,

You know how you started as an English/Creative Writing major? Stick with it. Don't be afraid. There's a reason you clept out of Composition II. You may not know where you'll go with it, but you'll figure it out in time. Remember that when you come home from Europe and there's a shooting/murder in the office of the adviser you're supposed to speak to about re-declaring at the University of Arkansas.

About Europe, it's OK that you went. It was a life-changing experience. You didn't know your world would be completely turned upside down and that the last time you'd ever embrace your father would be at the Little Rock airport the day you left. Oh, take your backpack off when he hugs you. Let that hug linger and remember, it's OK to cry as you leave his embrace and walk to the plane. He will always be your biggest fan.

Remember that feeling you had when you said goodbye to all your other friends in the airport? Don't forget that. Your gut was right.

In Lithuania, don't eat the brown meat with dots on its' edges. It's tongue. In Latvia, you're going to have to pee in a hole in the ground, often. Get over it. In Russia, your cab driver is going to get pulled over by the police and arrested and you will be scared out of your gourd because you don't speak a lick of Russian (really) and don't know how to get home. Don't worry. It will make for a great story later and you'll make it back to the hostel safely. In Sweden, watch the sun go down over the fjord, even if you're freezing. REMEMBER YOUR THOUGHTS AS YOU LOOK OUT OVER THE WATER. In Finland, look Jonna up. And listen to Snoop Dog with her like old times. In Estonia, ask someone to bring the 35mm roles of film that you left in Olde Town home for you. It's not too much to ask. Half of your memories of your time in Europe are in those photos. Also, get your CD's back from that kid, Uve.

Prepare yourself. Wade and Katy will be killed in car accidents that year. You will not be able to come home for their funerals. Consider it foreshadowing.

Your Aunt Angie will not live through the cancer that ravages her body, but it will take years. Let her come and stay with you in Fayetteville whenever she wants. Organize girl-trips, often. Go to Little Rock and stay at her house and keep her up late talking. Yes, it's even OK to smoke a cigarette with her. She will fill in gaps about your sister's life and about how she and your mother grew up that will both astonish you and help you understand your mom much better. And yes, she too, is one of your biggest fans.

Shock sucks. Remember that. Also, remember what you're passionate about and who you are, always. Don't doubt here.

Don't rush. Take it slow. Finish college/the process first. Live in the same town at length. Families are important and great indicators, no matter what they say or how you feel.

Your firstborns coming will surprise you. You will have no idea you're pregnant for almost two months after you are, even after you fell asleep on the concrete steps at The Met. Those margaritas you had will not hurt the baby, don't worry. Oh, and you were right. You'll have boys. The first one will challenge you and teach you more about yourself than you ever imagined. He's going to be smart, so, know now that you'll be at the end of yourself, often. Just be smarter than he is. The next one that comes along will be just like you, like a little puppy dog. And he'll be easier, I promise. Also, that margarita you had before you knew you were pregnant with him won't hurt him either, however, it might make his hair curly.

Remember that you've always wanted a simple, but fulfilling life. Bells and whistles are just that. Your discerning spirit is almost always right. Remember that, too, but give grace - freely. One day you will need heaps of it yourself.

Admire yourself a little. You're a lot tougher than you give yourself credit for. You're also a deep-feeler. Don't beat yourself up about that, even when people don't get that about you. Your personality will confuse people. You're always going to be an extroverted introvert. Oh, you're also always going to be very feminine, but tomboy-ish. It's OK if people don't get that, either. Those same people also won't get how into music you are, and etc. Forget them. I mean it.

Speaking of them, when they tell you (because they will) "you just need a little more Jesus" when times get tough, punch them in the face. OK, don't do that, but do realize that you're human and that's a GOOD thing. Also, about faith, it'll get complicated. Same goes for politics. Remember the words, layers, authentic and courage.

You don't have to have all the answers and you never will. Sometimes doubt is a good thing. Keep reading. Always. Also, don't B.S. Ever. You hate it when other people do that to you.

What you've always known will be challenged. Get ready for it and be up for it (as much as you can). You'll be better for the trials that will come ... and wiser, too, which all ties into those words I asked you to remember above.

When things start to go wrong, don't hide it. Don't protect, either. You're only hurting yourself. Cowards are gross. Especially the kind that are and don't think they are. Remember that. Also, people who believe in God aren't stupid.

Chin up & to pieces kiddo,
30-something Milton

P.S. I know you thought you'd never let your kids eat Velveeta. Well, you will, and they'll be just fine.