LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF

 

I've asked many people what they would say to their younger selves, if they could. It usually gets a response of profiting on the stock market, enjoy life more, and don't sweat the details so much. I've asked it enough that I'm not surprised with many answers any more. 

So I asked me. 

With decades of thought behind it, one would think I have an easy answer. But THAT is the problem. I've had time to go REAL deep. 

I considered the  financial rewards of knowing the future. Yes, it would be easy to invest $1000 in Home Depot and retire a millionaire 30 years later. 

I considered what age would make the most sense, as, if I'm too young, I will be way too naive to embrace the opportunity. Yup, us late-bloomers need to be older than most to understand things and have perspective. 

I considered, of course, running away to warn Elvis of his impending death. 

I would LOVE to spend time with those I loved that have now passed. Building a car with Uncle Roger, going to another game with Uncle Steve, trying to understand my step-father, going to Germany more than once to develop a better relationship with those relatives far away, all are great opportunities to build more great memories. 

How could I talk myself into taking education more seriously so work could be more rewarding? 

I sometimes wish I played more sports instead of working. Could I have been a good QB? A good forward? A better bowler? No way of knowing NOW, but I can imagine it would be fun to try. 

I could avoid some of my heartaches. Maybe Gail wouldn't die young. Maybe I avoid some failed relationships. Maybe I run away from some people before we actually would meet. I wouldn't sell my first Econoline, that's for sure! 

I would love to save some local history, recording the stories of the elderly when I was younger. 

I would hope to convince myself that all the loneliness, the insecurities, the abuses from some knuckleheads, and the disagreements with Dad would make me stronger than I otherwise would be. It really did make a better me for sure. I am more compassionate, more confident, and have more self-esteem that I could have imagined back then. 

I could have avoided a bad marriage, not bought all the new cars and trucks, not crashed my first new motorcycle, kept Mom away from her lousy ex-husband, and collected a few things that turned out to be, not only cool, but valuable as well.

I could have made things more comfortable for Mom when her challenges began. I could have had kids, stopped stupid me from being Robin Hood in the first grade, not had thousands of dollars of speeding tickets, no license suspension, no eye surgery from playing baseball, and visit the Southwest and Cali, before I got old. 

I could have traveled more, spent less on dumb stuff, not had to work for insurance companies to find my success, and been better prepared for computers to take over the world. 

But all that.... at what cost? 

I wouldn't have met many of the most impressive people I've been lucky enough to run in to over the years. I wouldn't have the experiences that got me to where I am today, not wildly successful, but happy and content and not feeling like a dummy. 

Would I have started writing? Would I have the same confidence if I didn't go through the tough spots? Would folks that I think I helped be ok without our time together? 

Lots of questions, and few answers, but at least if I had stock in Berkshire Hathaway, misery would be more tolerable!