Dear Me

Credit

For delivery 8 May 2011 (Mother's Day)

Dear Me-

What an ironic way to celebrate the holiday.  I know last night was possibly the worst in your memory.  I know how hard it was for you to hold your newborn baby in an easy chair in the basement of your grandparent's house.  All night.

Now, with puffy red eyes, and the single Mother's day card you received from you six year old, it's a new beginning.  It is time to face the problem that has been escalating for years. Denial is over.  Reality is here.  It's time to sort it all out.  Take a deep breath.  Lean into the struggle.

For a few months you will try to carry his bag of bricks that has been handed to you. Until you know better, you can't do better.  But then you will learn, and you will pass the bag of bricks on to a Higher Power.  And you will be free to heal.

I know you will turn into a sponge.  I know you will read and read and read. And study and learn and your understanding will grow and your ideas will jumble and resolve, confuse and then clarify.

Because of the way you were raised, because of your hyper-sensitive conscience, and your propensity for guilt, the shame will be overwhelming.  Feel it.  Let it open your eyes and tear down your walls of naivete.  The new world that opens up will fill your heart with empathy and compassion.  Humanity will be different to you.  You have an opportunity to finally discover who YOU are, and let go of everything you've been trying to prove to the world that you were.  You will take the opportunity, and you will be empowered and liberated.

There will be friends. Amazing friends.  They will carry you, they will answer your sobbing, incoherent phone calls.  They will love you and teach you how to love in a new way, you've never known.  Don't be afraid, don't feel inadequate. Their love is unconditional.

It will take work.  You will spend time and emotional energy learning how to cope.  You will have to face your pride and own your vices.  You will make discoveries about Pete, about marriage, about YOU that will feel complicated and hopeless.  Then you will make discoveries that will immerse you in hope.

But it WILL be okay.  If you can't believe anyone else, believe me.  Because I am you.  A new you.  A redeemed and reformed you.  It's not over for me either.  Maybe in a few years I'll write another letter to the "me" that writes this.

In the meantime, buy Apple stock.  And don't buy Facebook stock.

Love you dearly,
Me

P.S. Read Scabs's letter here.