Imagining the Future: Dear 100-Year-Old Me

Dear Rich,

Wow! 100 years old. Dude, you’re really old.

I was a little shy of 69 when I wrote this to us. I printed it off, put it in an envelope, and gave it to one of the kids. They were to either give it to me on my hundredth birthday or read it themselves.

If you’re reading this, I can only imagine what the world has become.

Did the ice caps melt finally, the oceans rise, and Arizona is now beach front property? Did some maniac decide to find out if his atomic arsenal really worked and push the button? Has some plague ravaged humanity? Is anyone even alive to read this?

Or has humanity finally grown up? Did we surprise God and show him that we could get along? Have we become an interplanetary species? What’s Mars and Europa like this time of year? Did we find someone else out there?

Either way, it boggles the imagination.

One hundred years old. One hundred revolutions around the sun.

I never thought I’d make that. But then, I expected to be dead before I was fifty. I mean squaring off against men with guns, being stupid out of season. I should have died a million times before reaching even that number.

I guess God kept us around for a reason. Hopefully not as a bad example to the young. After all, that’s why some people are in the Bible. A warning against what you don’t want to be when you grow up.

I just hope we achieved the dreams we had. That we’re not lying in some bed someplace, a heart monitor cheerfully beeping out the last seconds of our life. That we’re not listening to it and saying those two most terrible words in the world, “What if . . .”!

Instead, we can smile and say we ran the good race. That we’ve kept our faith. That we’re ready to have Jesus hand us the keys to the Enterprise and its waiting for us. And we hear him say, “Have it back in thirteen billion years. And make sure you gas it up and wash it when you bring her back.”

I hope we can say, “When I was young, I asked that I not live a boring life. That I’d live a life full of adventure. Thank you, Jesus. I lived my adventure. I found a great woman to love and grow old with. I had children and grandchildren. Thank you for her and them. And I’m ready for whatever else is coming.” And we take that starship and go romping around the universe. I know people have said we won’t need it, but hey, the fun is in journey.

But then if it’s the kids who are reading this, I need to let you know this. JR and I recovered a bunch of money from drug pushers. We wanted it for ourselves. But we were afraid we’d get caught with it. So we buried it. It was well over a million dollars and it’s in my old Army duffle bag.

It’s buried at 37°02’20″N ?”W.

Sorry, that last series of map coordinates is smudged in my notes.

Ah, with inflation and all, it’s not worth going after.

Love,

ME!