By As the new year begins, I’m reflecting on major changes I’ve recently gone through. I’m entering a different chapter of my life and I have been struggling, searching for guidance. It’s a bittersweet time—filled with excitement and joy, but also sadness and loss.
A dream I had sparked the idea for this letter to myself, written from the perspective of my own mother, whom I lost last year. It’s given me the reassurance and clarity I’ve been yearning for. Now, instead of looking ahead with trepidation, I’m welcoming this new year with hope and enthusiasm.
A letter of hope
Dear Jen,
It’s challenging right now because you’re in an “in-between season” of transition. Your two daughters are adults, living on their own. Your parents recently passed away. You and your husband have retired from your business of 17 years. You just celebrated your 60th birthday.
I thought you might need a pep talk. Since I’ve already been there, I completely understand. I think I’m the perfect person to help you through this.
You feel lost. Unseen. Empty. Confused. You are not sure how to move on and wonder what to do with the rest of your life. You don’t know your “why” or what your purpose is.
That sounds overwhelming. It’s too much pressure. Please know that you don’t have to have it all figured out. There’s no need to fill the deep voids right away. That’s impossible, so just let it be. Eventually, new experiences and memories will replenish (not replace) those old ones.
Think of it like a sand castle. A perfect creation is built—complete with walls, a moat, turrets, and bridges—then when you’re not expecting it, a wave thunders in, destroying your work of art. You have no control over that wave. The sand is still there, but it’s in a different formation, spread on the ocean floor. Later, another sand castle will be constructed, maybe even grander than the first. It all takes time.
Give yourself grace, just as you would for a friend.
Remind yourself you are awesome every day
Close your eyes and take deep breaths. Think of all you’ve accomplished—dwell on that for a few minutes. You’re amazing. You’ve worked hard and made an incredible life for your family. They love you so very much. You’re healthy and have made great strides in recovering from a panic disorder. You’ve transformed your house into a beautiful home—a place of safety, love, and laughter. Family and friends encourage and support you in the good times and the bad.
Ever since you were little, what you wanted most of all was to get married and have kids. To be a mom. You did just that! It’s been the greatest blessing raising your daughters. It wasn’t always easy, but along with heartache and frustrations, came ultra-proud moments of triumph, growth, and pure happiness. The girls have been brought up to be smart, independent, kind women. Of course, you’ll always be their mom. But it’s different now. You’re more like their friend. Isn’t that awesome?
Remember the small things
Your dad and I were a huge part of your life and you always had a strong bond. What a gift it was that your girls had a close relationship with their grandparents. It must be so painful that we are no longer here.
You probably can’t count all the times you’ve wanted to pick up the phone and call us. Maybe invite us over for Sunday dinner. Or tell us your roses are blooming like crazy and you’re making them a bouquet. Or give an update on a home improvement project you’re tackling. Simply to hear our soothing, uplifting voices.
What would we tell you right now? Your dad would have that jolly smile of his and say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff. And it’s all small stuff.” I would say, “Don’t worry about all that. You’re still young. Have fun. Make sure you do the things you want to do because one day you won’t be able to.”
Enjoy your own time
Now you have the time and resources to devote to whatever it is you want to do. This is a luxury you may feel guilty about, like your dad did. When he stopped working, he felt like he should still be going to the office. He continued feeling that way, even into his eighties and nineties.
It’s hard when your days go from disciplined to unstructured. You can feel unsettled, or how you’d put it, discombobulated.
When your father-in-law retired, he floundered, not knowing how to spend his time. You used to think, I’d have no problem figuring out what to do. Maybe I’d take painting or photography classes, learn how to play the piano, travel, go on full-day hikes, or spend uninterrupted hours reading a book.
Society places such importance on a busy schedule. If you’re not rushing around getting things done, you don’t feel productive. Like you’re not enough. That just isn’t true. You don’t have to stuff your days with chores and responsibilities in order to be worthy.
Don’t feel bad for slowing down and having time to just be. Allow yourself to be mindful and enjoy the tiny lovely moments in life that can easily be pushed aside, going unnoticed.
Flexibility in your schedule can be a wonderful thing. Remember you felt jealous when your in-laws drove to Las Vegas on a whim? They went during the week to avoid the weekend crowds. You were glad for them, but wished you and your husband could pick up and go somewhere, especially on a weekday. Not even close to possible. Those were your most frantic days. Driving to and from school, volunteering in the classroom, helping with homework, taking the girls to basketball and soccer practice, playdates, birthday parties, sleepovers.
Life was chaotic, but oh, so wonderful. You thrived being a mother. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t dream of lazy days at the beach alone or slipping away by yourself to a movie or maybe a day at the spa.
You reminded yourself not to have “the green-eyed monster” toward your in-laws or your dad and me for their freedom. That was their time. They earned it. They weren’t tied down anymore. It also meant they were older and would likely leave this earth before you. You wanted them to enjoy their lives and do whatever it was they wanted.
Your time would come just as theirs did. Only it seemed eons away.
But life moves too fast—and here you are.
Getting older is a privilege
Be grateful to have come this far. Embrace this new chapter, it’s going to be an incredible adventure. Don’t waste your days moping around, thinking you’re too old or too overwhelmed to move forward. Remember one of your favorite quotes: “If you don’t like where you are, move. You are not a tree.”
Be with your lovely family. Travel with your husband and explore this gorgeous world. Spend time in the garden, treasuring those quiet moments. Get back to practicing yoga, learn how to play pickleball. Go for long walks in the mountains. Jump in the pool with a gigantic splash. Find a cause you’re passionate about and volunteer. Host dinners (or go out!) with friends.
Laugh. Love deeply. Make beautiful memories. Fill your life with joy.
This “in-between season” isn’t forever. You aren’t broken. Think of it as breaking away from what was and creating space to welcome what will be.
Choose to start the new year with faith that you’re absolutely going to be okay. Have a positive outlook, seize each glorious day, and enjoy your magnificent life.
I know you wish we could be together, maybe having lunch or chatting on the phone, laughing so hard we cry. Remember I’m always with you.
I Love You,
Mom
