June 10

I found one of my old high school yearbooks while I was at my mom's last week, so I brought it home. I forgot about it until this morning, and was surprised when a folded sheet of paper fluttered to the floor as I carried it into my room. When I picked it up and eyed the dot matrix print that covered the page, I recognized it as a letter I'd written as a homework assignment in junior high. The subject matter? My life at age 35.

Kind of ironic, right? I hadn't seen it in years and years, and I found it at age 35 on the nose.

My predictions bore a striking resemblance to my actual reality. In my 13-year old mind's version of my current life, I had four kids and was a stay-at-home mom who occasionally wrote articles for a local paper as a freelancer. Which is, essentially, what actually panned out. I could theoretically take away points for not guessing that my freelancing happens online, but I shouldn't because the internet wasn't really a 'thing' back then.

Of course, I never, ever would've predicted that I'd lose one of those treasured children. And I incorrectly guessed where I'd live --Chicago rather than the San Francisco Bay Area-- but all in all, it was a striking read. And it reminded that though I feel lost at times, I've always had direction in my life.

I'd wondered over the years what became of that letter, and in a weird way that I can't fully explain, it was a blessing to see it again.