A letter to my future self,
Today is January 1st of 2016. Canyon is three months old and this is the first full year that I will be his mother. I’m so curious as to what you will think, what you will know when you read this two, five, fifteen, thirty years from now. Right now so many things feel uncertain, unclear to me, but not to you. You have the answers to all of my questions. What a powerful thing you possess. You will be able to read this and say, “ah, yes, I know how that all turned it. I know where they ended up moving. I know what Chelsea did with her career. I know how many children they ended up having and what wild, unexpected turns their life together took.”
I wish I could know what you know, if only for a moment. Sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, I have to know! but then my mind quiets and I remember that all of the questions I have, although they often feel like the broad strokes, are not. The broad strokes are the love of our family, our honesty, our laughter together, our kindness to each other and to those around us. The rest will work itself out, all of the silly details. It always has. You and I both know that by now. It occurs to me in these moments of quiet that even though you may have the secrets of the future, I have something just as special.
I have the moments of the present, the unbelievably wonderful moments of being with our first child. I hear the sounds of his sweet cry, I get to kiss his soft, little cheeks and listen to his satisfied coos and snorts as he nurses from my breast, his little fingers caressing my skin and his beautiful eyes staring up at me with more love than I have ever seen before. I get to witness his first smiles as he learns how much joy it brings his mama when he up turns those sweet, little lips and hold him as he naps in my arms for hours. I watch firsthand as he discovers things for the very first time. Just yesterday we saw his first giraffe!
The love I feel for him is so poignant and fresh. The kind of love only a woman becoming a mother for the first time knows. Sometimes it makes me cry how much I love him, how perfect he is. You must miss what that feels like.
Yes, you know the future but the more I consider it, perhaps what I have is even more sacred, these moments as a brand new mother to our brand new, beautiful, amazing, precious little boy. By the time you read this, all of these moments will be only warm, fleeting memories. When I consider that you won’t have complete, unhindered access to his sweet morning yawns and his tiny fingers, it makes worrying about the future just about the silliest thing I could do. There are way to many moments right now that I want to savor for the both of us, you and I. It seems only fair that if you offer me the secrets of the future, that I be able to pass on to you these sacred, unmatchable moments of the past.