LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Just thought I’d write to you so that you’ve something to laugh at or even just look over in your (very) old age. I’m hoping that you still know how to turn on a laptop, or whatever the 50 years from now equivalent of a laptop will be. Otherwise just get your children/grandchildren/ robots to read this to you.
So firstly, I’ve a few questions to ask. Did you ever buy Rockhill? You know how we feel about that. It can’t have fallen completely into ruin. Get on it – you’re not too old.
Or that fear of heights we have, are you still ridiculously scared of cliffs, bridges and glass lifts? How about the Eiffel Tower? I have no doubt that you’ve dined at the top and watched the glittering views of Paris at least once at this stage. You promised you would. You owe it to me.
At the minute, in case you’ve completely forgotten about your life in 2014 (and you wouldn’t be to blame for that) I’m getting ready to head into the last year of college and finally finish the Law with French Law course we started. I’m not going to be disappointed if you forgot half the French you learnt and aren’t as fluent as you once were, you are 72 at this stage, but I will be disappointed if you lost your love of all things quintessentially French. You used to love the wine and the chocolates and the city of lights – if you’ve changed, please take appropriate steps to fix it.
I guess the next big thing I’m curious about is how you spent your life really. I think the law career is an obvious one, there’s no disputing your love of the legal world. Did you ever write a book? Law related or otherwise? I’d like to think that you have. Or even contributed to one. I mean, realistically, you already have been writing a story for the last fifty or so years. You’ve written enough in your blogs over your life time, so maybe you should try and piece them all together. Like a real As Told By Sorcha. Keep it as a personal memoir if you like, it was always written as future reading material for you anyway. I knew you’d never have the patience for organising photo albums and I wanted some way for you to see all the wonderful adventures you got up to throughout your life. Yes, I’m sorry about the writing style and I am still keeping my fingers crossed that it improves – I know how rushed most of the posts are. You were busy. You’ll forgive me for that though, you know well how hectic things got along the way. You’ve only yourself to blame anyway, you were always one for throwing yourself into little projects and ventures. That probably won’t change with time… what are you after getting involved in now? You’re probably stressing about it right at this minute too. I’d even bet that you had no intention of reading over your blogs and just happened to stumble across this while frantically looking for something else. I know you. Calm down. It’ll be fine. Hopefully you’ve relaxed a bit since your twenties – you did have a tendency to take things a little seriously. Trust me, I know it’s an issue, but I’m hoping it’s something we deal with over time. More tea and chocolate right? Please tell me that you’re not diabetic. You knew it could come back and bite us at some stage, but I’m doing my best with the exercise and healthy eating to avoid it. Oh and the osteoporosis – were the doctors right? They told us a few years ago that it was likely, but we kinda threw that to the back of our minds. Maybe we shouldn’t have. I’ll take more calcium tablets. Sorry about that.
Did you get better at baking? Stay in Dublin or travel? Open a vintage cafe? I know fitting these things into your schedule must’ve been busy, but it was always part of the plan and well… it’s something that we both know would make you happy. That’s key. I think the most important thing for me is to know that you’re happy. Ultimately the rest are just a multitude of little pieces that fit into that picture.
I also hope that you’ve remembered to make time for all the important people in our life. I’ve absolutely no doubt that they stuck by you throughout the various ups and downs (and there were many) and they deserve every bit of love you have. You can forget a lot of the content of this letter, but please don’t forget that. If you’ve lost contact with someone or had a falling out, figure a way to sort it. I know you’ve been through a hell of a lot more than I have, but I think I’m right about this one.
Anyway I’ll write more letters to you (and you can check out the previous ones from our other blog) in the future, but for now – I’m off. We’ve plans to do a bit of shopping and I’m hoping that I see something worthy of your future grandchildren cringing at. “How could nan wear that??” they’ll probably say. Rummage out your old clothes and show them all off – they’ll be horrified. And we’ll be delighted with ourselves.
I look forward to it.