Up until now, I’ve refrained from writing you a letter on The Lance. I know a lot of blogging mamas do it, but I’m kind of an old-fashioned letter-writer. One day I’ll set you up with a pen-pal and you’ll understand.
What’s there to say today?
Well, to start: I’m not centering the text on this letter. In my last post, your father asked that I opt for a left paragraph alignment. I’m sure you appreciate the readability. Your dad, he’s so fastidious.
If you take after him, you’ll be far more articulate than your mother. You’ll be grounded and rational. Thoughtful and smart. You’ll have a voracious appetite for music, politics and social science books. You’ll be a good cook.
If you take after your mother, you’ll have your head in the clouds 90 percent of the time, and in that space, you’ll run wild. Just remember: while it’s frustrating to be a dreamer, you’ll grow to appreciate the escape. Because no matter where you are, you’ll always have an out.
And just when you think you’ve lost it; when you’re fretting about passing a final exam, or paying your bills, or saving for retirement, you’ll pull out the dreamer card and though it’ll do little to solve your problems on earth, it’ll put things into perspective in that ambiguous ether that gives Buddhists peace.
At 29, if there’s one piece of advice I can give you, it’s this: I’ve met people who have it all and I’ve met people who have nothing and what I’m learning as I get older is that the path to fulfillment isn’t measured in stock dividends.
I can’t imagine what the world will be like when you’re my age, but I’m confident there will still be poetry books, good music, hot coffee, ballpoint pens and people howling at the moon.