I wrote this during my junior of high school. It's so fascinating to see what has already changed, and what will change in the future, as well as to observe some of the details that may play out accurately. I encourage you all to try out this exercise; it is quite rewarding and insightful, and I'd love to read your responses if you feel inclined to share them with me! Enjoy:
I am eighty-seven years old today. Six of my great-grandchildren sit around my rocking chair, asking me about my life. I begin with high school, and tell them about the great opportunity I received to go to college early. Education is the most important thing you can ever have; unless you completely lose your mind, knowledge is something that no one can take away from you, no matter how poor or devastated your life may seem. Next to education, the most important thing in my life is my family. I didn’t have a great family growing up; it was pretty scattered. I tell them how I made sure their lives could be better than mine, providing their parents and grandparents with the best family possible. I loved my career, but I made sure it didn’t take precedence over my family or my spiritual life. For the past seventy years, I have taken at least one day out of every month to devote to those who aren’t as well off as I am. Time is of the essence. I tell them how time can be much more valuable than money; a smile and a helping hand can be much more motivating than a couple of dollars. Of course, money is important, but loving money can get you into a lot of trouble. I gave each of my four children $20,000 when they went away for college and have a trust fund ready for the future generations. I travelled the world in my twenties, I say, fresh out of college and free of obligations. At twenty-six, though, I decided to settle down and start my career at one of the largest advertising companies in existence. I started my family a little more than two years later. I encourage them not to get caught up in life; take some time just to step back and see the big picture. Don’t worry too much about what you can’t control; I spent the first twenty years of my life doing that, but it didn’t solve much. Maintain your little corner of your world, but remember that everything happens for a reason.
I tell them how I pursued my dreams and have published twelve novels. I pursued a career in music for a little while, but gave it up. I wasn’t made for the life of fame. I remember how I won valedictorian in high school by one point and laugh. I tell them about my friends from high school, especially Hannah and Hillary. I tell them about how Hannah and her daughter used to live down the street from their grandparents when they were growing up. I remember all of our reunions, and mention a few of my memorable teachers, especially Ms. Beeman and Mr. Hochevar, who really pushed me to succeed to my highest potential. I laugh and tell them about him, about how much he’d done before he was thirty and how he had finally landed in teaching high school. I think back to the last reunion I went to, the fiftieth year since graduation. Ms. Beeman was there, ninety-two and still kicking. I tell them how she taught all of my children and two of my grandchildren. She didn’t retire until she was long past seventy. I tell them about some of my friends that aren’t here anymore, some that were taken early and some later, but I tell them how it was time for all them to go. Nobody goes before God’s timing says they should. I mention the presidential election of 2008, how strange it was for an African-American to be running against a white man and a woman. Of course, they’re so used to this now; it seems unbelievable that the office would be segregated so much. I tell them about Y2K, but they don’t believe that either. “Americans couldn’t have been so dumb that they thought the world would end,” one of them said. I laughed. It didn’t just happen once, I told them. The scares happened at least a dozen times during my life. They marvel at how “primitively” I lived in my teenaged years, and it makes me chuckle, relating that with how shocked I was to hear about my great-grandmother who lived through the Great Depression.
“What else did you do?” The youngest asks, barely three years old.
I won the lottery once, I tell them, but it wasn’t much. Your great-grandfather and I opened a coffee shop about thirty years ago and ran it for fifteen years until I just got tired of it. We didn’t really need it; between the two of us, we’d made all the money we could ever need. When I was sixteen, I went to see some open houses. One of them was worth $4.4 million. It was the most beautiful thing I’d even seen, but I promised myself I would never buy one like it. There was so much useless space, and that was wasting so much money. If I spent that much money, I don’t think I could live with myself. If I’d spent that much money, I wouldn’t be able to give you any. Your great-grandfather and I built a house that cost a million dollars and it was wonderful. It had everything I could hope for, and a room for all the kids. It even had a laundry chute.
“What’s a laundry…what’s that?” I chuckled. I forgot for a moment that they didn’t have laundry chutes; their clothes were automatically washed in a high-tech machine for them now. Things were more different in 2079 than I could have ever imagined.
“It’s hard to explain, really. You drop your clothes in it, and they go down to where the machine is.”
“Okay,” the youngest girl said, but it was obvious she didn’t quite understand.
“I’m pretty tired, kids.”
“Grandma, you can’t leave now! You didn’t tell us your whole life yet!”
I laugh lightly. I’ve told you the important stuff, I say. I have what really matters to me sitting right in front of me. Just remember that no dream is too crazy to come true. Set your mind to something and do it. Never start something without finishing it. Remember that the most important things are the things you can’t touch: love, knowledge, and faith. Remember, kids, God is always around, and after I’m gone, I’ll be watching over you. I wouldn’t trade any part of my life; if I could do anything over again I would do it exactly the same. I spent a lot of my young life wondering what would have happened if I’d done something else; don’t do that. Everything happens for a reason, no matter how much it may seem to suck. It’s bound to get better.
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