A yearly tradition finds new life

Growing up, my New Year’s tradition was to write a letter to my future self to be read in a year’s time. I still have them, bundled up in a box somewhere in the closet, but I don’t need to read them to remember what they say:

2000, 2001, 2002: “Maybe this is the year HE will notice you! You never know!” I wrote for three out of the four years of high school. And yes, I meant the same boy each year. And no, it never happened.

2003: “By this time next year, you’ll be halfway through your first year of college. I can’t believe you’ll be out of high school!”

2004: “This guy, Jim, seems pretty cool. I wonder where we’ll be in a year.”

2006: “Wow, next year you’ll be signing this letter as Mrs. Kirk. I can’t wait for July!”

2007: “Good bye, Concordia. Hello, Enid News & Eagle.”

2008: “Wisner’s a pretty nice place. I hope you stick around here for a while.”

Then I stopped writing my yearly letters. I felt that after high school and college graduations, a wedding and a “real” job, there wasn’t much left to anticipate.

In a way, I wasn’t completely wrong. The early part of my twenties was packed full of life-changing events, most of them good. After so much activity, though, it was bound to slow down. What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would enjoy the “settling down” phase of my life.

I like going home every night to Jim and Evangeline, knowing we can look forward to an evening of family time. I enjoy completing the regular chores it takes to keep the household running smoothly, knowing that a sink full of dirty dishes means we’re eating well and a pile of dirty laundry means we’re all in the same place. I cherish Sundays at church, reciting the liturgy and singing hymns my great-grandparents also sang.

And with a young child in the house, there are still plenty of surprises to keep life interesting. I would never have guessed, writing my letters as a teenager, the joy a new tooth brings, or the simple pleasure of tucking in a sleepy baby for the night.

As I wrote our family newsletter, I had so much to say about Evangeline’s accomplishments over the past year. When I got to filling in relatives on what Jim and I had been up to, though, I was amazed that not much had changed for us in 2011.

Then I realized I can trade in my old tradition for a new one: Writing a letter for Evangeline to read in a year’s time, a letter detailing my hopes for her in 2012.

There’s a whole world of firsts waiting for my daughter, and I’m excited to be by her side as she experiences them.

PS: A confession - it's the third day of 2012 and I haven't written Evangeline's letter yet. As she is currently content playing with new baby doll (thanks Aunt Astra!), I don't think she'll mind too much. 

On the Lighter Side

Published December 28, 2011