Today’s Prompt: A letter to your (future) children: If you already have them, think of them. If you don’t (yet) or never will, imagine them. What reflections or pieces of advice from your own imperfect human experience so far, would you give them? What are the most relevant life lessons you want them to remember? Write them a one- page heartfelt letter.

Dear kiddo(s),

Hi! I hope you’ve had a good day today, and that you’re enjoying school and all the fun stuff that come with it. If you’re reading this, then it means you’re in your later teens (or you’ve found this old post on mom’s website…) and I’ve decided it’s the best time to hand you this letter. Maybe I’ve already told you this to your face, who knows. Here goes.

I love you. No matter what you’ve done, no matter what you’ve yet to do or not do, I love you and everything about you. You’re a gift in my life, and I’m blessed to have you. I truly am. It may not feel that way sometimes. I might be grouchy some mornings. We’ve surely had little tiffs by now. But even on the days that you may question it, I love you. Hell, the likelihood is that my love is what pushed me to do whatever it is that pissed you off in the first place! Be patient. I should have been more patient with my parents.

Let’s meet one another halfway. In patience, kindness, understanding. Everything you’re going through? I was there. I was experiencing it. I’m not an alien that was born an adult, you know. I was 17 once. Whether or not you believe me, I understand… or am trying my damn hardest to understand.

Do what you love. I’m not going to ask you to be a doctor or lawyer or teacher or physiotherapist or… [insert occupation here]. Find your passion. And I completely understand if you have no idea what the hell that is yet. I’m 26 now and I’m still not entirely sure myself. That’s okay. I’m going to do whatever I can to help you figure that out. Extracurriculars? Sure. Arts? Sports? You bet. Music? Hell yes. You might do something, and realize halfway through that you wanna do something entirely different. It’s okay. I’ll understand. I’ll help you as best as I can.

Travel the heck out of the world. By the time you’re at good traveling age, I’m hoping that technology will have made travel even easier than it currently is. I hope it’s more affordable and accessible. Travel the world. See the world. Explore cities and cultures. Do missionary work. Eat in pubs and holes-in-the-wall. Eat at Michelin starred restaurants. Look at art. Visit ruins. Understand yesterday in order to appreciate today and help tomorrow. I hope that by the time you read this, I’ll have done the same.

Ask me for help. It’s what I’m here for. It’s what I’m hoping for. I want to be a part of your life. Don’t ever think otherwise. At the same time, I’ll respect it if you don’t. Barring any life-scarring/threatening decisions, I’ll let you figure things out on your own if you’d rather do that.

Laugh. Smile. Drink lots of tea. Or coffee. Or orange juice. Or water. Whatever floats your boat. It’s these little things that will bring joy to your heart. Not the giant career, not the big salary. At the end of the day, it’s not about what you have. It’s about what you did, and who you did it with.

I’m sure there’s more to say, but I’ll keep this brief so you can get back to whatever it was you were doing before you read this. But before I go, remember this one big thing:

Love with all your heart.

I hope you do all things – living life included – with love and passion. Love as much as I love you – which is infinitely.

Forever,

Mom 🙂