A love letter to myself

A very dear friend came across this nugget, while flipping through our junior high school yearbook. The year, 1977. The age...unknown but guessing either 13 or 14. After all, it was grade 8. That's the year that Shelly moved back to the Saskatchewan town her parents were from, and our lives were forever changed, without us even knowing. I'm sure at the time, between the tears, threats of running away together, wails of despair and negotiations for my parents to adopt Shelly (They adopted me. What's one more?! After all, we always thought we were sisters-from-another-mister, long before that concept ever became cool!) we were both convinced our lives were completely over. May as well stop the planet from rotating, because it's all done for. Funny how 41+ years manage to pass by, and neither of us has actually died. Oh, I'm sure it felt close some days...may have even toed the line to peek over, but we are both standing as strong as we did as children. Our paths may have gone off in very different directions, but we wound our way back into each others lives and arms. Where I think we were meant to be, all along. But then that question of "what if" pops up. What if Shelly hadn't moved, and we continued on to high school, college, careers, boys together?? Would Shelly have 3 beautiful children and grand babies today? Run her own company, and speak at events as a subject matter expert? Would she have painted and then presented me with the new (very old) frame that makes it absolute perfection (this is also 41 years old, by the way, and it's hung in my room since the day Shelly gave it to me, so very long ago.)

And what about me?? Would growing up together, on the same street, one house down have meant different choices for me? Marriage, a different career, children...Ermmmm...this is where I gulp and hoping I at least stay the crazy cat lady!! Every time I look at the picture of me from so long ago, all I can think is "oh, girl...you have no fucking idea of what's to come." And that's a good thing, right?!

I've showed the picture around, and everyone is kind to comment how pretty I was then. Funny how hindsight kind of grabs you and makes you look twice. Was I pretty? I certainly didn't think so then. I have flashes of doubt now. And while this was before puberty and my seemingly constant struggle with weight, I recall being teased for being too skinny. Too many freckles. I'm sure my eyes were too blue and my hair too brown. I distinctly remember being too tall. I mean seriously...WTF?! Could not make people happy, and sadly, that meant a very long, bumpy road of finding and then finally claiming MY own happiness.

So what would I say to me now? Even thinking about it is choking up my throat, and what is this wet stuff on my cheeks? How I want to wrap that sweet (really, I was sweet...honest!) girl up in my arms and protect her from everything and everyone that hurts her, but then, she won't learn and grow, will she? I guess all I can tell her is that our life is a good one. Yes, we definitely have had dark days, but the sun always came up. ALWAYS. We loved hard, and people loved us back. Some didn't last, but was it meant to then? I don't know these things either. So keep smiling, sweet girl...people will try their very best to make you frown, but continue to smile in defiance! Smile like you really do know the secret, and you still won't share. Smile, because you really are happy. Really!

Much love and gratitude,
Carol