A Letter to You

Dear the Mama,

And Dear the Papa,

And Dear YOU Who Lived Today at Half Mast Instead of Full Bore Like You’d Promised You Would,…

 

Dear You Who Woke Up Late This Morning and Who Hit the Snooze Alarm Anyway,

Dear You Who Never Managed to Thoroughly Comb Your Hair,

Dear You Whose Undies Are Frayed and Also Stuck in the Laundry Room Under Piles of Socks and Towels That You Thought Were Clean but Smell Somehow Like Old Cheese, …

 

Dear You Who Didn’t Accomplish the Things on Your List Because You Accomplished Other Things and Whose List Has Grown Longer as a Result,

And Dear You Who Spent Too Much Time on Facebook, Hitting Refresh and Hoping Someone Would Post Something New and Newsworthy or at Least Not Another Quiz About What Disney Character You Are, …

 

Dear You Who Called the School and Couldn’t Remember Your Child’s Teacher’s Name… or Your Child’s Name… or Why You Called in the First Place,

And Dear You Who Made Yourself a Cup of Coffee But Kept Forgetting to Drink It,…

 

Dear You Who Frets About the State of the World and Feels Angry at Everything Unjust and Without Mercy and, Well, Sucky,

And Dear You Who Believes Doggedly in Kindness Anyway,…

 

Dear You Who Feels Greasy and a Little Bit Dumpy and Would Like a Warm Tub and Cold Beverage and Good Book and Has Time for None of Those,

And Dear You Who Snapped at Your Partner Just Now but Doesn’t Feel Guilty Because He Was VERY Wrong and You Were VERY Right, so There,…

 

Dear You Who Goes, Goes, Goes and Doesn’t Stop — Like, Not EVER — Except When You Completely Quit All the Things and Land Face Down in the Mud Pit of Life Because You Just Can’t Take Another Step,

And Dear You Who Wishes You Knew How to Go or How to Quit Because You’re Pretty Sure You’re Bad at Both,…

 

Dear You Who Screwed up Some Things Today and Saved All the Others, Like Every Day,

And Dear You Who Are Steady and Unstable, and Prideful and Petty, and Wild and Weird and Wonderful All at Once,

 

Dear You Who Wonders at Your Worth, and Longs for Rest, and Wishes You Were Better and Wiser and Stronger, and Who Sometimes Hangs Your Head Because You Are so Fallible,

 

It’s important you know you’re fabulous.

Fabulous. Absolutely.

A muddler? Yes. That, too. You muddle through, and that’s OK, because you’re fabulous and human, and we humans are muddlers, it turns out. Muddlers and magnificent. Muddlers who make mistakes, and muddlers who correct them. Muddlers who live and love, and learn to live and love more with our muddling.

So in case you, like me, have spent today wondering, I wanted you to know for sure. You’re fabulous.

With love, your friend,

Signature

 

 

 

P.S. I might have written this to you AND to me. Because, you know.

P.P.S. Our June retreats are 1/2 full. Go here if you want more info on the writing retreat and here if you want more info on the spiritual formation retreat. I would love, love, love to hang out with you.

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
12 comments
  1. […] A Letter to You reminds us all that we’re fabulous (Five Kids is a Lot of […]

  2. You never fail to have the right words when I need them. You always put a smile on my face and tears in my eyes and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that!

  3. I read this right when I needed it the most. Thank you so much! I felt you were speaking directly to me!

  4. So I read your post this morning, feeling pretty on top of my life, and thought “nice post”. Then I read it again tonight and just sat down on a pile of laundry and let the tears roll. Because what a difference twelve hours can make, right? Thanks for this.

  5. Beth – I don’t think I fall in your target group of readers (As a 20-something single non-parent student) so I can’t directly relate to much of what you write about. But I really enjoy your writing style because it often makes me laugh, and I admire your openness and honesty. And occasionally you write something that makes me feel like there might be people somewhere in the world who, if I told them all about my mess as you put it, would look at me and say: Yes, I get it. And I would believe them.
    I read this post and at the end my chaos was no less chaotic, but somehow I felt a tiny bit comforted. Just wanted to let you know. Thank you.

  6. Yes to All the Things. And if I weren’t pregnant right now I’d have people wondering how I went through a box of wine that fast over the past week. Ugly here, man. Ugly. New levels of ugly.

  7. Exactly what I needed this morning – thank you!

  8. Wow, thank you. I didn’t even know how much I needed this until I read it!!

  9. This is positively magic. A masterpiece in every writerly sense, and a total delight and relief to read. Thanks for putting this out there.

  10. Start mixing, I’ll be right over…

  11. I feel like we were on the exact same wavelength today, maybe…
    http://www.livstecker.com/2016/03/things-about-being-real.html

    1. Yes. Yes, we are. I heart you, Liv! To infinity and beyond. HOWEVER, I need to note that I do, in fact, make the perfect martini. (Extra olives, olive juice — dirty as hell. ) And I’ll also drink warm beer. Both/And, friend. Both/And.

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