Today I gave my future brother-in-law a letter I had written the summer I turned fifteen. My sister who is ten years my junior is getting married at the end of the summer to her true love after getting engaged in Zanzibar a few weeks ago. I had alluded to this letter, but today my sister asked me if I could dig it out of the folder marked Special Occasions and Mementos in my cluttered filing cabinet and show it to her husband-to-be.
The contents of the letter were primarily about my sister's vivid imagination which manifested itself in an imaginary husband and numerous imaginary children at age five. Naturally I would have to tell my future brother-in-law of this previous marriage and other cute stories of the sister I dubbed "Fuzzhead". I had written the letter in tiny cursive writing on fancy stationary and it was three pages long.
In the same time capsule was a letter to my future husband which I couldn't resist opening this evening. It was sealed with a heart sticker and was clearly influenced by the True Love Waits movement. The contents consisted of promises and prayers and wonderings I won't elaborate on, but you can probably imagine a sentimental fourteen-year-old would write. In case my future husband ever materialises, I won't get into any details.
My fourteen-year-old self had anticipated the possibility that my future husband might not exist. She was definitely a romantic, but somewhat realistic in her expectations. She couldn't imagine the course of her future life, but she remained sweetly hopeful. If I could write her a reply, I am not sure what I would say. Keep dreaming, perhaps, and keep praying, and remember your own earnest vows sealed with a heart sticker and written in loopy cursive. I wouldn't tell her that in twenty years she would be writing a blog post on a lonely Friday night, with no future husband yet in the picture.