Dear younger me,

I’m sorry I haven’t written sooner, but it’s been a busy few decades. I do think of you often, as I am reminded of the things you did that are still important to me today.

You always put people first; this was not something you knew would be important in your future as a manager and business owner but turns out it is. Everything comes down to relationships and the ethical, kind, respectful treatment of others. You seemed to know that instinctively, and I thank you for setting me up for success in that regard.

I remember that you made everything creative and fun; I think you would be proud to know that I’ve carried that spirit with me every day. You reached for dad’s shirt cardboards and made drawings for friends. You took every spare lump of clay and created pen holders and little people, using mom’s garlic press to make hair. You gave away everything you made to those you loved. Not much has changed here; the tools have evolved—you would have loved the digital world—but the heart and soul at the centre of it remains the same. You used to inspire your friends to play creatively with you—you would not have described it this way as a child, but that was what you did. It’s no wonder everyone wanted to come to your house after school.

By the way, those film cameras you used to use, I’m still using them and believe it or not, they’re back in style.

Music was also something you loved, and that took the shape of piano lessons and playing the guitar and singing. You even wrote songs. I haven’t done much of that lately, except I listen to music all the time. Music is something else that connects people, and I find lots of people love to share what we call “playlists”; you would have simply made a hand-written list or a mix tape. We don’t use tapes anymore. All the music lives in the cloud, if you can believe that. It’s not the cloud you know, the one you look up in the sky to admire, finding animal shapes or other puffy images. I think I like yours better.

You won’t believe this, but all of those years when you went to dad’s office and sat at his desk and made lists for fun—well, I’m still making lists and loving every part of my home office. Those manual typewriters you loved are still in my office, still working, and the tactile, mechanical nature of them continues to thrill me. Turns out even people my age like to receive a typewritten note, especially because they usually just get email, but that’s a whole different story. Sometimes I also write notes with a favourite fountain pen, and even though you used to get ink on your fingers, you taught me all about thick and thin lines and how to make envelopes look fancy with special inks and nibs.

I want you to know how grateful I am to you, my younger me, for setting me on a good path and filling me with possibility. I think people today don’t give much thought to their younger selves, but they should. It’s there the seeds of success are planted, and if nurtured, we grow into adults with a sense of continuity for the world. It’s hard to think of my younger self without giving credit to mom and dad, who filled my life with love and support and showed me a world filled with opportunity.

You should know that I’ve been successful in business, and very lucky in life. You had a lot to do with that, so thank you. I continue to cherish our relationship.

XO, Nancy.