Dear Chris

Knowing what he knows now, our Memoirs of a New Dad columnist writes a letter to his younger self

Riley Hunt (with parents Angela Jacques and Chris Hunt) graduated from elementary school in June. Photo Courtesy Chris Hunt

I know you hate the whole “writing letters to yourself” thing. When your teacher asked you to do the same in grade school, you copied the most recent Super 7 lottery numbers and lazily scribbled “Yor welcum,” beneath them.

So why am I writing to you? Well, your early-40s self is sitting in a school field on the hottest day of the year, about to watch your only son graduate from elementary school. You’re sitting next to your mother-in-law and you’re wearing a zip-up sweater because the light shirt you were going to wear wasn’t the correct shade of blue, according to your kid’s mom. You’re practically melting as you eye your son. He’s about your age, almost 12 now. You’re gonna love this kid. He’s just like you. Blonde hair, blue eyes, overflowing with snarky wit.

He’s anxious today. The entire school will be watching him, a fact he’s keenly aware of. But there’s something else bothering him. He’s apprehensive about what his future holds.

So were you. Dude, you’re going to worry so much about high school you’ll wake up most mornings and puke for seemingly no reason. It’ll get so bad your oldest sister will joke you’re suffering from morning sickness. You won’t know what that means, so you’ll tell your teachers you suffer from morning sickness, and then you’ll be confused by their confusion. Or maybe they’ll be confused at your lack of confusion. Who knows?

It’s been three decades and you still remember the anxiety you had before high school and you want nothing more than to spare your son that.

Knowing what I know now, what would I have told myself when I was a kid to better prepare me for the future?

The day you graduated from elementary school, you tried to hide because someone gave you a head’s up that the principal was going to call out your gold medal win in track.

You won’t be able to hide though, and your principal will call you out. The entire school will give you a standing ovation. And the more uncomfortable you look, the louder they’ll clap. Also, you will be wearing a tank top.  Not sure why that particular fashion faux pas was allowed to pass, but there it is.

That’s the thing about life. It’s not easy and it’s not simple, but you always fare better when you choose to face hard moments head-on. Sometimes you lose out on the things that matter most when you try to hide away from them.

You know what? You know what you will tell your son. You’ll impart how important it is to not shy away from tough moments. Perfect.

Actually, never mind. He’s about to walk the stage. Not necessarily with a look of confidence, but certainly with a Let’s get this over with air. That works too.

Well, I guess that’s that then. Just so you know, you have a great life, a family who loves you and a son who is fast turning out to be your greatest gift to the world.

Thought you should know.

Sincerely,

Chris

P.S. Invest in Apple.