A letter from Feb 05, 2025

Dear FutureMe, Last year snuck up like a ninja, kicking you repeatedly and weighed you down. But who would've thought that 19 years after your baby girl, Brooklyn, was born, that she’d deliver the news to you about becoming a…grandma!…for the very first time?! I mean, I’m only almost 39 years young and fabulous! Sure a few silver hairs have popped up to say, “Hey, girl…ahem, I mean, lady.” And sure your body feels like it’s barely pushing the ripe age of 80! C’mon…you’ve got your handyman-husband (willing to lay it all down and step up to plate to be a Stay-at-Home-Dad in the 21st century), your two rambunctious lil’ boys, Pollux and Maximus (who may or may not have accelerated the pace at which those pesky silver hair strands popped up), and much overdue-a part of your education career that lightens your work load a little for the first time in more than 15 years! So what if the home you’ve lived in now for nearly 5 years STILL is in the same condition as it was 4 years ago?…right? RIGHT? Okay, so it may cause some undue stress. Alright. A lot. Like, a whole lot. And the clutter and chaos, and hoarded trash is an eyesore and embarrassingly enough, prohibits you from inviting family and friends over to visit—like always. Every holiday and each year goes by like a quick blink, and goal after goal skates through, never getting checked off to finally complete the home renovations THIS time. With this life whizzing by before you, and very few tasks being checked off your “list”, it’s alright to just wanna go by Gigi rather than grandma to Brooklyn’s Miniature. Gigi? It stands for Glamorous Grandma! A suiting moniker, might I add. So, hear me out this once, Gigi—hold and love on that itty bitty baby; cuddle it, and be the best darn Gigi any grand baby could ever ask for. Because there has already been a day where the tears rolled, your tummy ached in a longing way-for just ONE more day of that itty bitty baby, Brooklyn and Britney. The innocent smell of baby powder, baby, and new skin. Their little fist grips your finger…and you melt into oblivion. Now, it happens again by the grace of God, so live it again and again, as long as you can…because someday, you won’t be around anymore for the grand baby/babies. Your dad was a fantastic Papa Max, wasn’t he? Yet, 2012 stole his away from you and those grand babies of his. Pollux and Max never got to meet the best Papa…EVER! Yet he sees, knows, and lives it right along with you...taking you under his Wise Wing. Yea, those are pretty big shoes to fill, but remember, you ARE your father’s daughter. Wednesday, February 5, 2025