Dear Younger Me,
You knew on some level that life was magical.
Mystical. Enchanting. Unbearably new.
You were all full of possibilities and dreams,
always too headstrong to follow on cue.
That was always a part of your charm, that absolute certainty
that all life would unfold in a way good for you.
Impossibly it both hasn’t and has. You’ve lived
as you wanted. You always had love.
But life is far different now than you could expect
when your greatest concern is wearing white gloves
out on the field of Friday night glory,
Somehow you’ll be guided always from above
Or within or without or wherever help comes from.
You didn’t know how your religious vocation
would dictate your friends, your loves and your study.
Could you know that New York would be your destination?
How strange for a Texan, your family all said.
More strangely, it becomes your favorite location.
Be ready for five loves, none of whom you’d expect,
One you love now, then the one who made you whole,
One many years older, and one as many years younger.
The best will be the middle, who will love your pilgrim soul.
But birthing two children will fill your heart with purpose,
and mothering will turn out to be your most beloved role.
You’ve always worked hard to achieve what you wanted.
Sometimes you’ve failed, most times you’ve come through,
a professional life to be proud of
though all jobs don’t end happily for you.
Your life will be a good one, you’ve the courage to live it.
Stay courageous, outspoken, bold, balanced and true.