At present, I am nearing sixty. A future version of me would have to be in his nineties to send me messages. Not that I want to live that long, but in this hypothetical scenario I would like to see a simple message:
“All of us are still happy, healthy and safe.”
That should be all. In that one sentence I should get the assurance that everyone I really care about is well. Considering the way the world is shaping up—with wars, famine and newer strains of diseases—it would be a wonder if we make it across a year, let alone decades.
The only message I would like to hear is that those I care about are safe and, most importantly, happy in life. Is that a selfish thought? Why should I care about those who troubled me or caused us problems all through the years? I am no saint. All I would care about is the well-being of those who stood by me through thick and thin.
The highway of life can be full of twists and turns. The fact that your loved ones have managed to survive the journey—and are not only surviving but doing well—is the best news you can hope for. Not that I want the rest of the world to fail. It is just that I have reached the stage in life where I have started thinking in realistic terms. The years of idealistic visions and dreams with unicorns prancing around have melted away and disappeared over the horizon.