I was born in 1967.
In 2067, you’ll be 53. I most certainly won’t live to be 100 and see you turn 53 a month later.
I’m 53. You are six years-old.
On the 100th anniversary of my birth, you’ll be the age I am now.
I hope you remember me well.
Remember me with fondness.
I hope you always remember how much you are loved.
I pray that you read this the first time, and think back on many good memories of the love you feel from me. I pray you read this for the 100th time, and remember a lifetime of love and happiness. That you remember how important you were to me.
You were my heart, baby girl. I hope you know that.
You’re six today, and I’ve already asked you several times in your life, “do you feel loved?”
It’s important to me that you know how loved you are, just for being you.