I wrote this letter to myself on March 24, 2011 in my diary. It was the week Ken was in the hospital before being released to come home for hospice care where he died on June 1. It was one day after our 10th anniversary, and the week we learned definitively that the cancer had returned, and nothing could stop it. Both mind-blowing and mind-numbing, I did my best to wrap my brain around what the weeks to come would be like. It was always so easy for Ken to take care of me when I needed it, and I remember feeling the great weight of wanting to do the same for him in a situation where I saw no light at the end of the tunnel.

I felt untethered by gravity. Lost without any sense of control. My present was at times unbearable, so I put pen to paper (fingers to keys, actually) and created a narrative that borrowed strength from the only place I could think of: my future. I sat near the window in his hospital room, while he entertained guests around his bed. I slipped out of that dreary March afternoon, and stepped briefly into a light I knew–somehow–awaited me.

During those weeks of hospice, I read this letter over and over…out loud…in my office when I had a moment. Though it wrecked my every time, it worked. I depended upon it. And it never let me down. In the months after Ken died, I’d read it and it would wreck me still. And I resolved that one day when I read this letter to myself, and it did not wreck me, I’d share it in my blog. Admittedly, I haven’t read it in a long time, but as part of the book (yes, that’s still happening) I read it.

And it didn’t wreck me. So, I read it again. Nothing. Then again.

So, I’m sharing it.

I’m sharing it mostly because I want people to understand you can get creative with self-care in challenging circumstances. I love to write, and I knew I could find a way to use it to save me. And it did.

*Ignore any typos. I pasted it “as is.”

Dear Past Me:

I’m writing to you from the future to give you some vitally important information. I’ve inserted this important message in your diary because I–better than anyone–know how integral it is to your mental well being. The need to write–especially during times of crisis–hasn’t waned as I’m writing to you.

What you might find shocking is I’m writing from a time when I am content–happy, even. My life is full of love, friendship and creativity. I’m at a point in your life you are not able to see now. And that is okay. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Maybe you think it’s not important to see that right now, anyway. You are right–to a certain extent. Therein is part of the reason for this missive.

You are experiencing something very difficult and painful. Take it in. Like sinking in quicksand, fighting it can sometimes lead to sinking deeper. Relax when you can and let it envelope you. It’s only by fully accepting, experiencing and sharing this time in your life that you will best be able to handle it. Make no mistake, though this is one of the darkest times anyone could face, it will not break you. You are stronger than you realize and even more so after this experience. People will wonder how you were able to handle an impossible situation with such grace and dignity. You will astound them, actually. So, prepare for the kindness and compliments and sentiments of love from those around you.

Speaking of friends, you’ll remain friends with these amazing people–well into the future. You’ll continue to feel a great sense of pride as your friends continue to “circle the wagons” and protect you at all costs. There won’t be many surprises as the friends you love continually come through for you and support you and love you–and even carry you when necessary. They have done right by you in our past, your present, and in the future. Your taste in friends is flawless, but we already know this don’t we?

There is never an “ideal” time for a situation like this, but if there were then you are armed to the teeth for this battle with an arsenal of the fiercest friends and family imaginable. This may not be a battle you will consider a “win”, but it is not one that is a complete “loss” either because you will get through it. Only time will show you this perspective.

Focus your energies on staying healthy so you can continue to love and support your amazing husband. When I think of him now, a smile overtakes my face as I recall our life together. I feel no sadness when I think of him. Only joy and gratitude that he touched my life, and as you are well aware, changed it and us–for the better. I hope that is of comfort to you. (I guess I already know the answer to that question, don’t I?) I chuckle when I think of “body in motion” or journey vs. destination. The lessons he taught me are still with me. He is only gone in one respect, but ever present in many more.

I’ll continue to monitor the situation from my perch. There are few things I’m allowed to tell you, but I hold many wonderful secrets about your future (my present) that might alter the events of time should they be shared. I’ve breached this law only because–having been in your exact place–knew you needed to know you’d make it through the darkness. There is no other path for you. And this you already know. I’ve changed nothing by telling you what will be–since there are no other possibilities. Knowing me like I do, I’m sure this note hasn’t caught you completely off guard or told you things that are surprising. You may not consider yourself a fighter, but you are one. You are strong and graceful.

Take care and try to remember these two things well: 1) you are badass and 2) you will know happiness again.

Future You

As I read through this the last of several times to ensure this wasn’t some crazy emotionless anomaly I was experiencing, I began to understand as I read it, the perspective from which I see it now is from happy Future Me, not desperately broken-hearted Past Me. This feels like an old present someone gave me a long time ago, that I just now opened. And I love it.

If I’m not at the place of happiness Future Me talks about, then I’m damn close!