Letter to My Future Self

Dear Future Self,

Right now I am 26 years 4 months and 23 days old. It is Dec. 4, 2009. Right now it is 12:49am (I am choosing to be up late at a youth event) I am currently leading, in all practicality and honesty, a pretty comfy life. I have a job that I love that is more rewarding at times than others, but is my dream job. I work with people I get along great with.

I have friends that I play with. I have music which is at my disposal. I have dogs that love me (even when I don’t take them for their daily walk). I have time, time to do most anything I want. I travel without much restraint from my previous responsibilities.

And then there is my family. It is just me and our wife, Rebecca (and the dogs). For nearly four years it has been just us in the house. We can decide on a moment’s notice (or maybe a couple moments) to travel somewhere or at least go do something fun together.

However, a bit of news arrived about 8 months ago. News I had been looking forward to for a long time. News that I had dreamed of hearing since I was young. This news will manifest into my firstborn child, which is becoming more and more real these days. I am uber-excited about the matter.

I am writing to you, Future Self, because I suspect that there will be nights where you are up at 12:49 (or later) for purposes that were not of your own volition. There will be times where you may not be quite so as excited as I am now, but that is ok. The times where from the time we decide to go out and do something fun to the time it is done, is significantly longer than it is now. There will be times that we decide to just not go to whatever thing calls on us. But there will also be times where you are with your entire family, holding the one I can only feel through our wife’s belly.

I write to you, Future Self, to remind you of how amazing it is, really just unreal amazing it is. The feeling I am having now I hope you feel then. I am certain you will.