Dear Moz...
Although you may find this hard to believe, cynic that you are, but I am you – many years in the future. I will not tell you just how many years, it might make you reckless; give you a false sense of invulnerability. I will just say you have done alright, just keep on as you are going, crazy as it may seem at times.
I must admit I am somewhat fearful that, if you behave any differently because of this letter, a decision may be different and our life will change irrevocably. Strange thing is I can’t even remember receiving this letter – perhaps I will end up not sending it. That seems sensible as sending it may have consequences. The idea of not sending it is quite liberating. I feel I can say more.
Firstly, looking back over the years I am happy. Things haven’t always gone to plan. There have been disappointments and difficulties but nothing has been insurmountable. Even the major fears and scares have faded as their resolutions have overtaken them and put them into their true perspective. Family deaths have been inevitable, we have always known that – as shocking as they seem at the times they happen.
In the natural order of things we should all survive our parents and we have. We have dealt with them appropriately and I can reflect with some pride how we have responded. I say “we” as I feel that me now and you, as the younger me, are different people although, in reality, we are the same person of course. It’s just a little tricky to get my head around. I remember your insecurities and feelings of inadequacy.
Having a disability has always made us aware of our limitations and apprehensive about how we will cope with the years ahead. Be reassured that you have coped way beyond our expectations with mobility issues, so much so that some often don’t realise they are permanent and ask when you expect to recover. We have enjoyed a full and rewarding family life and working life – looking back it is amazing just how fortunate we have both been. To give details of family or work would be to spoil so many wonderful surprises that you have in store.
There are challenges which you rise to, opportunities that you take and opportunities that you refuse. Decisions which you wrestle with before taking those decisions, right or wrong, and then deal with the outcomes. There is music, plenty of it. Your interest now swells and branches. There are gigs and experiences that become often told stories – we mature into quite articulate story tellers and build a wealth of experiences around which to weave these tales, although perhaps some we recount too often. The whole music journey takes some wonderful unexpected turns which will surprise you, particularly knowing what little talent we have. Sometimes it’s more about confidence than ability.
Remember that, it will get you a long way. Ultimately there is recorded music that will help you through some tough times, throw you some optimism when things look bleak, bring you beautiful memories, and stir your emotions. Then there are more twists with live music – don’t worry you have not become a star but you have watched a few from afar. You have seen big names and unknowns in big venues, intimate venues and at festivals. They have often been inspirational and you have shared so much with friends and family. Even now you are involved, both with your local venue and with some media. It is and has been most fulfilling.
Friends. You’re already aware that they are largely transient. Our lifestyle dictated that people would fade in and out of our lives. Some fade out for many years, only to rekindle long forgotten relationships, largely due to the advent of a concept far beyond your comprehension – social media. We are living through a revolution in computer technology which changes everyone’s lives and thinking. It is both amazing and mind boggling, both a gift and a curse. I know how much you love a good paradox, or contradiction. That continues. I still love a bit of Tao and wrestle with a good oxymoron.
Wait until they try to explain “passive aggression” to you. It still baffles me. If I do send this letter, I am not sure how old you will be when you get it, but I am imagining thirteen. Put it somewhere safe and read it every couple of years as its content will become increasingly relevant as you grow older. That sentence makes me realise that I cannot send you this message as I have no memory of reading it back over the years and I cannot imagine having mislaid it, no matter how irresponsible our teenage years became.
It's a shame really because it would have mystified you. For one thing you would doubt its authenticity, and I can’t blame you. Hearing from the future defies our logic although we would never rule out the possibility, no matter how small. So, while wishing you all the best and sending you good vibes, I know this letter will be consigned to the waste-paper basket or, better still, sent off to u3a for their consideration. Who knows, we might even get published. Love (never be afraid to use the word)