A letter from August 6th, 2020

Dear FutureMe, Wherever you are, it is ok! It is right and good and safe and will get you somewhere else. Right now you’re wearing a mask and waiting in your new car smelling subi outside the courthouse for hot dogs from orbit room. It’s sunny and 79 and your hands hurt from weeding and life is at a standstill but also still moving, as it tends to do. Hopefully some things have changed. Hopefully you have a family. Hopefully you have solved the riddle of Judy Lynch, at least for yourself and Patrick. Hopefully you are doing a job you love that brings you fulfillment. Hopefully there is a piano in your house and many not dead plants. This has been a year, for sure. 2020 will always be that. But you know what? It’s not 2014 or 2015, and by god that is good to know. Because if you can get thru those, you know you can get thru any of them. Hug your family. Make sure your nieces and nephews are still everything you need them to be. Call Kate, always. Get another tattoo. And ******* save some money and buy a Vespa already, ya dingus. You’re beautiful. You’re here. You’re going to eventually not be, and that’s ok. Cat thanksgiving or whatever. Pass the friggin’ gravy.