A 12-12 months-Previous’s Letter to Her Put up-Pandemic Self


Dear Audrey,

They are much older now and hopefully smarter, although sometimes they are not. You probably forgot about me.

I’m 12 years old, you struggle with fear, hate virtual learning in this nightmarish pandemic … I could go on and on. Ring a bell?

Anyway, there might be time machines in the time you’re in, but they’re not here, so I’ll do the next best thing: I’ll write you a letter that I hope you read every year on New Years Day, or New Years Eve.

I came from 2020 to remind you not to forget. I’m currently sitting on my bed, tears still on my face from an argument with my mom (I love her more than anything, but we’ve spent too much time together), aware of the light blue masks hanging on the hooks next to it the door in my kitchen. In a way, it still feels like March when this whole crazy thing started. I’m sick.

I ask you to remember. I was not allowed to spend Thanksgiving with my beloved grandparents after waiting so long to deal normally with them and to rally myself. Now it looks like I won’t spend Christmas normally with them either. In America (where I live) the coronavirus numbers are higher than ever. I hope and will pray for a Christmas miracle, but I have my doubts because I was hoping for an Easter miracle and it didn’t happen.

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I am fighting and would do anything to get out of 2020 and this pandemic and see my friends and family normally. You can. You have what I want so badly. So please, I urge you to enjoy your life, your friends, your family, your experience.

Remember – everything is interchangeable and unimportant, but people are the only real thing that matters in this modern world.

Love your life and be full of joy this year.

With best regards,

You, 12 years old, Audrey in 2020, the year of the pandemic.




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