I often wonder how life's journey gets you where you are today. It is crazy when you think about it. How do you go from birth to feeling old in the blink of an eye? Who knew life would just pass by so quickly? I suddenly find myself living in a small town, married to a great guy, who, just happened to be my high school sweetheart, paying bills, raising three kids (all under five), with way too many wrinkles on my forehead and chest. Yes, I said chest! Perhaps it’s just sun damage, but they certainly resemble wrinkles when you look really close. What's next? Gray pubic hair? God I hope not.
I think I really started dwelling on how fast life passes you by when my grandfather passed away. He had been really sick for some time and we knew he wasn't going to make it much longer. After spending a few days in the hospital with him, my husband and I decided to take the kids to Seattle for the week. It had been very sad and stressful and we needed a little break to decompress. Our first night there, my daughter and I rented the movie 13 going on 30. If you haven't seen it, you should. If nothing else, it will shock you to know that you can still bust out all of the dance moves to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and hearing "Crazy for You" will remind you of "not" dancing, but rather standing against the wall with all of your girlfriends "wishing" you had danced at your smelly middle school sock hop.
Anyway, this show was just what I needed. In it, this 13 year old girl, filled with angst, whole-heartedly wishes that she could be 30, flirty and thriving. Because when you are 13, 30 sounds so much more appealing! Life should be really good by then, right? I mean, you should have some pretty major success, right? You've got this thang figured out!
It reminded me of an 8th grade teacher I had and this particular assignment she gave us. Being about 13 at the time, she had requested that we each write ourselves a letter. In this letter, we would sort of predict our future and the things we thought we would achieve in adulthood. Who, at the age of 13, could have any idea what they would or would not achieve in life? I think I had only a couple of things on my mind at that time that were of paramount importance. Should or shouldn’t I break up with Ricky Bobby? Was I going to become an official member of the Duran Duran fan club? I mean, I had written “Duran Duran” on spiral notebook paper about a thousand times! Those seemed to be long term goals at the time. I was committed!
Anyway, I digress. Our teacher, Ms. Hand, this insanely obese teacher whose breath reeked of sour coffee and whose perfectly plump feet and grotesquely uncut toenails burst out of her worn out Birkenstock sandals, would mail these letters back to us in what seemed to be the VERY distant future. At the time, it seemed absurd and meaningless, until...
I received this letter in the mail. It had large bubble-like print on the front, it was addressed to me, but oddly sported my maiden name. I carefully opened the letter and read “Dear Me…” I instantly realized this was the letter I had written myself. It became abundantly clear that my 8th grade self would be highly disappointed with my 38 year old self. No, I was not a news anchor/super model. (I had a lot of confidence at that time despite being 5 feet tall). I did not marry Ricky Bobby. And, I certainly did not drive a convertible red corvette.
And although I am very happy with the life I have now, it gave me a good laugh reliving what my 13 year old self would have predicted as being successful. Had I known that 3 car seats would not fit in the back of a convertible, I would have nipped that in the bud immediately.
So, I ended up with a career in marketing - I was horrible in front of a camera. I married my high school sweetheart - which was a much better choice than my 8th grade boyfriend (you really need to be at least 16 before you select your lifelong partner). And I drive a very large SUV, not a red corvette. And the best news is, at 38, I still have a couple of more years to be 30, flirty, and thriving...it's turning 40 that I'm worried about!
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