Dear self,
Congratulations on reaching the century mark! And you thought you might not see 80…
This is a letter from your 71-year-old self, written in early 2025, when seismic changes are the order of the day and many of us are waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since you’re 100, you obviously survived whatever upheaval ensued, but I have to wonder how things are going for you, and everyone else. Are you cared for, are your needs being met? Does America still exist? Does society still function? How’s the weather?
Look at me. I’m getting ahead of myself. My job is to report and convey current conditions. I’ll refrain from asking more questions and offering advice. Hell, you managed to make it to 100– there’s nothing I can offer on that front!
Anyway, it’s a mixed bag here in 2025– promise and foreboding. That you’ve reached 100 says something, I guess, considering what’s happening now.
Sorry I can’t be more upbeat. I guess it says something hopeful, though– that you’re still hanging in there. I didn’t think I had it in me.