Fleeting Moments Of My Younger Self In A Letter

Dear young Jenny,

where to start! Your glow is mesmerizing and present as I paddle an ocean of smiles calling me back, setting this older version of you on a voyage immediately, hearing the whispers and thoughts as tide flows way too fast.

Suddenly there I am back with you, I know it's just day dreaming, but my compulsion to write is so strong, just had to let you know I'm from the future and it's 2026, yes and maybe if my destiny allows you'll get to read my words.

When first you appeared into this world, light came all at once and you were born on a Monday at 10.10am in 1954. With fists clenched and a loud cry of “I'm here!” is how I imagine it...mum always said you had a strong pair of lungs. There must have been many tears of joy as parents gazed down at what they'd created...your life had just begun.

Not being aquainted with your strange surroundings, it must have taken a lot of adjusting when once your eyes opened, and those chubby tiny hands wanted to clutch at everything, then the moment would be gone.

You made every effort to consume your enthusiasm, discovering the world you'd been born into. The insects that crawled and flew were fascinating, leaving many questions when eventually you were able to talk. They will be etched on my mind as an everlasting wonder of

excitement, but also sometimes fear too.

Your words were constantly: “What's That?” Your most famous, followed by: “Why?” Then came the consequences of being curious; crawling through open doors and gates, squeezing into small gaps to hide, but finding yourself stuck, where upon a petrifying feeling would overcome and have you screaming and crying, anxious brown eyes becoming sore with tears as the floodgates opened and only mum could console.

You feel vulnerable learning from all these bitter experiences. Remember the time when mum plonked you on the garden's grassy bank, and you served up mud to your dolls and tortoise Fred, mud reminded you of chocolate and it looked nice enough to eat yourself, except you got a queasy stomach and stained hands and mouth.

Back then you learned the hard way that eating too many gooseberries would make you ill, and even now I can't touch those fruits...yes! You really were a worry, and why? Well leaving mum anxious when she thought you'd escaped out the open back garden gate, mum even called the police. Then unconcerned you appeared from inside the gooseberry bush, yes subjected to much distress and again an upset stomach.

But when surrounded by flowers you were always content, ignorant of mother nature, just fascinated by the colours and scents. I'm here now among the holiday memories of Portishead, watching you roly-poly down the grassy bank, then in the park falling over many times. I want to kiss you better when you cry, but I'm only an unseen spirit blowing on the breeze.

I'll continue to watch your strength build from lessons learned, each left behind will launch you from one life to another. When having problems at school, others will try to put you down, cruel words biting, but they will only make you more determined to get back up and become stronger. Then much later when leaving school, dark places will become distant memories, like for me...your energy will flow.

Love from your much older self.

Jenny. Xxx

Photos my own of myself.