Forgot About This

The following is a letter from December 27, 2009, delivered yesterday from the past to me by FutureMe

Dear Future Me,

I know you're probably feeling better than I am right now, or you've at least gotten over this rotten respiratory infection we contracted over the holidays. I also know you have the same e-mail address because you haven't changed it in ten years; what's another twelve?

Did you remember to finish all the UFOs in the closet under the stairwell? What about donating that crazy quilt to the folk art museum? Don't tell me you forgot it again. If you wait much longer it's going to disintegrate on you. Also, remember to call Kat today; she's turning 28.

Are you happy to be retired? (this is assuming the world didn't end ten years ago in 2012.) You didn't cave in and cut your hair like all the other old ladies, I hope.

Give our guy a big kiss from me and thank him again for the lovely new office chair he gave me this Christmas.

Sincerely,

Past PBW

The photo is of Katherine on 12/26/09, when she was 15 years old.

In the twelve years since I wrote that letter to myself, let's see: I probably feel a little worse right now as my arthritis is flaring badly, and has moved into my right knee, so I'm hobbling a lot. As I predicted I have not changed my e-mail address. I finished about half of the UFOs over the last decade or so. The crazy quilt is unfortunately still hanging on my sewing room wall; I never could bring myself to part with it. I have not retired yet. I am cutting my hair a little shorter these days because it's starting to fall out. I don't have that very uncomfortable chair my guy gave me; we put it upstairs so I could have my old ugly chair back, which is still way more comfortable.

Katherine will be 28 on Friday, which I'll be celebrating with her.

I remember exactly how I was in 2009. Overworked, completely unappreciated and used by just about everyone, present company excepted. I would not wish that part of my career on my worst enemy if I had one. Now I'm glad they kicked me to the curb a few years later; if they hadn't I'd probably be dead now from the stress. I also wouldn't have the wonderful job I've kept for the last seven years. So what would I say if I could write back to that exhausted, sick, depressed past me?

Take care, 2009 me. You have a bumpy road ahead of you, but it will all be worth it. Oh, and you have just developed type 2 diabetes. Go see a doctor now, will you?

Fell Off the Wagon

I did cut up that plastic dollar tote to make into something stronger, but got caught up with work and set it aside. Then last night some hand-dyed silk and pretty threads called my name, and, well . . . Felt SO good to do some handwork, except my neck began hurting about an hour into it. I tried changing the way I sit and work, but it's pretty obvious that the doc is right.

T-minus Day

This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Old Loves & Such

My guy kindly bought me my favorite Chinese take out the other night, and my fortune cookie offered up an interesting story starter: This sounds sweet, right? Only the first thing I thought of was an old love coming back from the dead . . . . must be October. In other lovely news, my favorite hand-dyed thread artist, Lorraine from Colour Complements , is moving her business from Etsy to her own web site. Many of my favorite sellers on Etsy are leaving due to the whole "free shipping" coercion debacle, which has also soured me on the site. To show support I did a little shopping at Lorraine's web site and got in these: I love her threads and trims; you simply can't buy anything like them anywhere. Her work makes my specialty thread box look like a treasure chest: At night I'm spending just as hour working on quilting the scrap project runner, and I'm making slow progress: I'll keep quilting the runner while I try to decide on a design for t...

nightsmusic said…

I'll go for you today. I'm seeing mine at 9:30 because over the past 8 months or so, my hair is falling out at an alarming rate. I'm hoping (if that's realistic considering) that my thyroid meds just need adjusting. If it's something else, I don't know how I'll react. As to you and 2009, yes, you had a bumpy road, but you're one of the strongest survivors I know!

December 28, 2022 at 4:48 AM

Maria Zannini said…

I love that you write letters to "future me".

re: hair loss
Ah, hair loss. I've been fighting that for years but during 2021-2022 it escalated to alarming proportions and had to see a dermatologist. I've got the usual female pattern baldness that most of us get past a certain age, but also something called lichen planopilaris. The hair loss is permanent. The only treatment is anti-imflammatory meds to keep it from reaching that point.
Getting old sucks.

December 28, 2022 at 8:14 AM

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