Dear Grandma

This is a letter I wrote to my grandma before she passed away.

Dear Grandma

I'm so glad I got to see you one last time. I hope this letter finds you well, even with what you're experiencing right now. I don't know if you'll be able to read this. I don't know what you'll remember, but if my Auntie Luz can read it to you, that would make me very happy.

I just want to say thank you. Thank you for listening to my piano recitals, for laughing at my drawings I drew until I was fourteen, for watching me play video games both well and poorly, and for being one of the biggest fans of my music. But most of all, thank you for believing in me. Thank you for believing I can achieve anything I do. And I have achieved a lot.

But if there's two things I haven't done, which I wish I could have done. I wish I could have spent more time with you and contribute monetarily to letting you stay with us longer. Maybe the second thing is not something I should be doing, but I know deep down, if I could travel back in time, I would never have rejected certain oppurtunities for me to come over and to make everyone's lives better. You always told me that if I kept going, I would make it, even when you were't all there.

Unfortunately, the last few years have made things more difficult in that department. I permanently damaged my back, and I lost almost my entire network of friends because they believed that things weren't as hard as they are for me. You stuck by me even though I'm autistic, and you still listened even when I shared what it was like.

What I want to tell you before you go is that there is a possibility I'm not going to make it. My disabilities have lead to me having dizzy spells, poor sleep, and declining cognitive functioning with both computer and daily tasks. It's gotten to the point where being disabled has become my full time job. Charlene and I are constantly trying to source the right food for our diets, to organize transportation for my appointments, to figure out how to pay for meds that aren’t fully covered by insurance, and finding the kind of job that works based on my conditions is becoming a longer quest than I want it to be. I'm part of the poor getting poorer and to get all of the basics for me to live is going to be a fight for life because the help I'm getting now is just enough to barely survive.

I know you mean well when you say "I'm going to make it eventually" but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, grandma. That's never going to be true. We can try to think positive or pray or read self-help books or get coaching or stop making excuses but the entire system works against the disabled in our country. I learned that it's okay to embrace the pain that comes with that hard truth.

But there's one thing I know that will make you proud. I discovered that to truly find meaning in this world is to create something that will make people smile. It doesn't matter how many people see it. It doesn't matter if it makes money. All that matters is that I had fun with the process of developing something awesome and that I had at least one oppurtunity to show it off. Will I leave a legacy? Will I be remembered hundreds of years from now? Will I speak truth to power? Will people change when I open my mouth in the future? I don't know. And personally, I don't care. Maybe you'll be proud of me just for discovering what's really important.

All I know is that I'm sorry I couldn't do better, and I promise to do better. If that means speaking up to stop people from being pushed around, I'll do that. If that means talking back and standing firm when the powerful say no, I will do that. If that means leaving Winnipeg like everyone else in my family to do that, I will do it. If that means quiting everything and helping save the world and sacrificing the things I really wanted in the past, I'm sure as hell going to do that. I just want you to know that because you believe in me, I won't stop trying to be a better man. But I have to figure out how to be a man MY WAY, not the way the world, the system, or church, or pop psychology or new thought thinks I should be a man.

I promise to let you watch me make a difference in this world from heaven, one person at a time, one task at a time, and one community at a time. Because you did that for me even as imperfect and as held back and as angry and as wierd as I am. Your spirit will always be with me.

My name represents power in voice and art. Let's bring that innovation to the world together in spirit.

Love always, your grandson,