Cereal Box Time Capsule

Last week’s posts about cereal reminded me that it was only last month when I belatedly opened up my cereal box time capsule.

You see, as part of the turn of the Millennium celebration back in late 1999, General Mills offered a special version of Cheerios called – what else? – Millenios. The back of the box noted, “Now’s your chance to be a part of history! Use this collector Millenios box as your own unique time capsule to store your special mementoes. We’ve provided some ideas to get you started, but use your imagination and leave behind a memory to share in the future.”

The suggestions included coins, stamps, collectible toys, newspaper and fashion clippings, family videos and photos and favorite music.

The box also had some “Millenios Predictions” on the side in which you had to fill in the year that you thought they would come true, such as "Scientists will find life on another planet by the year ______.” (By the way, I answered it: NEVER.)

Anyway, I decided to seal my Millenios box for 20 years, a la Rip Van Winkle. With no kids of my own, I figured I might as well plan on being the one to open it.

So last month, after digging through a lot of storage boxes, I found the Millenios box and opened it up. Since my memory isn’t always that great, I had forgotten what I put in it and looked forward to seeing what kind of cool stuff I had stashed.

I discovered I was pretty unimaginative when it came to deciding what went into the box. The contents (old coins, newspaper clippings, grocery coupons, a Green Lantern comic book, a couple of photos, etc.) looked like the same junk in my desk drawer now.

The one thing in the box, however, that I remembered putting in there was a letter I wrote to my future self. (I know, it’s a nutty idea.)

“Dear Dan,” it began. “Hello from the Past. It is New Year’s Day 2000 and I am writing this letter to you so that you will open it in 2020.

“You are an old geezer now of 60 and I hope that you have had a good 20 years.”

The letter then went on to mention some things that had happened in 1999, including the beginning of my father’s health problems – leading me to make the following observation: “I guess the most important thing I learned is to appreciate your loved ones, as you never know when they might not be around. Also, appreciate each day of your life, as you never know when you’re not going to be around.”

The rest of the letter is much too personal to share here. But it provided some nice memories of what my life was like then, with details that I’d long forgotten.

The letter to myself closed with these thoughts: “I hope that you have enjoyed the last 20 years like you did your first 40. I hope and pray that the Lord has continued to smile on you and your family.”

Well, He has. And I’m happy to say that I’m still following the advice I gave myself twenty years ago.