"What would I Say to a Younger Me?"

Looking at my high school yearbook picture, I wondered what I would say if I could go back twenty years and talk to him?
     
What would I tell him about the years ahead, about the ways he would change and what would remain?
     
The face in the picture was unlined.  His eyes were bright and so sure he'd live forever.  His hair was long, just right for the time for a guy in a band.  But today, when I showed it to my son and he saw the wide lapels and denim sportcoat, he just grimaced. 
     
Would I tell young Jim that he'd marry a beautiful Italian girl who dances and bakes?  Would he see in my eyes the love that he'd one day have for his three children?  Would I tell him that soon he'd revel in the way words tumbled and fell across the page?  Would I let on about the suffering that inevitably would come, that is as much a part of life as breathing?
     
And, what would his questions be to me?  Would he need to know what not to do, what not to say, who not to trust?  Would he ask about our parents, our family, our friends?  Would he want to know how I went from wearing jeans and T-shirts to Dockers and a tie?  Or if he ever made it as a rock star? 
     
If he did, I'd sit him down and gently explain that he hadn't become a musician.  But, then I'd smile and tell him that he was doing exactly what he was supposed to do, saying the things that had been strong but silent in his heart down those long high school halls.
     
And I wonder. Would he be proud of who he'd become?
     
What would you say to a younger you?