A letter from June 29th, 2016

Dear FutureMe, I can't even imagine how much will be different in 2020. But it's useless to speculate because life is gonna throw surprises like it always has. If you asked me in 2012 what I'd be doing in 2016, I would've been very wrong. So if someone asked me now what I'll be doing in 2020, I'm assuming I'd be very wrong now too. I am laying down in what used to be my room at Mom & Dad's house. It feels strange to be back here. It isn't a bad feeling, but it just isn't the same. Every part of this city has some memory attached to it. I have memories in almost every business or restaurant I've been to here. My home was more than a house; it was the entire PF/CDA area, and I didn't understand that until I left for real and came back. I don't have these great memories of growing up in any other location. This is where I became who I am. So in 4 years, I'll be 29 (remember half birthday is in 3 weeks). Maybe I'll still be teaching at WMS. Maybe I'll be teaching somewhere else. Maybe I'll be in human trafficking prevention. Maybe it'll be something I'm not even interested in right now but will become very important to me in the next couple years. Maybe I'll be married with a kid. Maybe I'll be single and living with Deion. In Greenville? Idaho? Seattle? Nashville? Or some small town I don't know about yet. Mom and Dad didn't know about Post Falls in 1998. If I'm still living in Greenville, will it feel like home yet? Will Mom and Dad still live in PF? How different will I be as a person? How much will my personality change? This was a very difficult year (October to June was hell). As I reflect on it, I see that a lot of my chill side was destroyed by the stress and pressure that comes with leaving everything and everyone I loved in order to begin the most underpaid and overworked career I could think of. I'm not gonna beat around the bush- this year was absolutely terrible. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about my decision to move there and teach. There are many words I would use to describe that decision. Some are good; some are bad. I really had a great life here in Idaho, and I loved being me. It used to be really really great to be me. Regardless of how things go over the next four years, I hope I never forget how great it was to be me from birth until May 2015. I miss that version of myself. I hope that as I become more comfortable with my career and my new life, I can regain some of that version of myself that was ruined by stress and failure this year. I really want to be happy again. There will be many twists and turns and ups and downs between now and when I read this. Not only will I change, but the world will change. At the moment I am terrified of the future of the world. People keep being awful to each other. I have already made a commitment and signed it in Grandma's handwriting on my back that I'm going to continue to live with a purpose, which is to make a positive impact on the world, treat people right, and be the best person I can be. The tattoo was designed to ensure that every decision I make is one that I would want to explain to Grandma over whatever the alternative was. Last month I was cleaning the litter box. A small piece of a turd fell, and I didn't feel like walking back down to the dumpster. I scooped it up, looked around to see if anyone would see me drop it down onto the grass below, and then paused to realize that I would rather tell Grandma I did the right thing and walked it to the dumpster instead of dropping it on the grass. I did the right thing because that tattoo made me stop and think about what I would do if Grandma was behind me watching. It is her 80th birthday today. Last night we had dinner at her house. Dinner there isn't what it used to be. The carpet has been replaced by hardwood to accommodate for her broken hip and wheel chair this winter. Mo and Danielle are gone. Amber and Bob are there now. Kinda. Bob shows up sometimes to be cute and lay on Grandma. Amber is a dud. Nowadays the conversations center around health problems, insurance problems, payments, bills. Grandpa wants to be independent, but Grandma doesn't trust that he can without hurting himself or burning down the house. Being there is not the same. I'll be honest- it's not as enjoyable at all. Not even close. But the impact that weekly and at times daily trips to Grandma's house have molded me into who I am. I cherish and appreciate my time with them. They may not be around when I read this email. It was still nice to see them though. It always has and always will be. She still is a hero to me. She does what she has to do for the benefit of the people she loves. She also doesn't know about my proclivity for partying. She doesn't know about a lot of my activities from ages 17 to 25. She only knows about my best qualities. The version of me that Grandma can see is the version of me that I'm striving to be. I want to live my life to the fullest and genuinely be someone that Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa are proud of me. I know I'll change a lot from 25 to 29 just as I did from 21 to 25. I hope the changes trend positive. I know I won't forget what's important to me. I can't now. I just hope that by time I read this email, I am enjoying life. I have a vision for the person I want to be. I need to just continue to wake up with that mindset every day. I need to passionately live a life of purpose.