Number 76: A letter to my unborn grandchildren

My dear unborn Grandchildren,

It is the year 2010 and I am writing you this letter from the office of Cleopatra, the interior design store in which I work.

Your mother and father have not even been born yet. I’m twenty years old.

I guess you’re wondering why I’ve written you this letter, and I don’t know how to explain it. I guess that there are just things that I feel I would like to tell you, and I’m not sure if I will ever get the chance. Who knows how old I will be when you are finally born?

I want to tell you a little bit about me, if that’s alright with you. I was born at Parry Sound hospital in Parry Sound, Ontario on March 2nd 1990, the same day that Nelson Mandela was elected deputy President of the African National Congress…which had no bearing on my birth; I just thought it was interesting. When I was just a baby my parents (your great grandparents, Judy and Jim) owned Lorimer Lake Resort on Dunchurch, Ontario. They sold it when I was two or three and from there we moved to Magnetawan, where I was to grow up.

Magnetawan was and (presumably) is a tiny town about an hour South of North Bay (where I met your grandfather…but that will come a bit later) and about three hours south of Toronto. I feel I should tell you that…as if I’ve anything to do with it you’ll never have to go there. The town was small and I was a bit of a misfit. When I was four, my sister (your great aunt Tanya) moved away. The next year my grandfather Gord, died. Later that year, my mother and father split up. It was a very confusing time of my life. I was so young. All I remember about it was that my father wanted to take me for a walk and my shoe fell off when he picked me up and I was crying to have it back. ****, who lived with us, attacked my father, or something like it, and a fight ensued. Next thing I knew Kristine (another great aunt of yours) and I were swooped away by my mom and **** on a mini vacation to a hotel in North Bay, where we ate waffled for desert at a fancy restaurant. When we returned home, my dad was gone.

I hope that you never have to experience the pain of your parents separating. I promise you now that I will do everything in my power to make your life easier than mine was.

**** and my mom, from that point on, were like my parents. I visited my dad sometimes, but not often enough. Kristine and I were weird because we had “two moms”. I never had many friends until I got to middle school, but by then I had changed my entire self in order to fit in. I smoked marijuana (which I’m sure you’re parents do not want you to know) and I became a bit promiscuous. It was not a good time in my life.

My other grandfather, Hubert, died when I was twelve, and I was so heartbroken. He was a very interesting man and it breaks my heart that I did not get to know him better. I hope that you will get to know your grandfathers better than I knew mine.

When I got to high school I decided that I just wanted to be myself. Staicha (my father’s wife, ***’s, daughter and I became best friends. We were different and weird and we loved it. We made a group of loveable misfit friends and I moved into my Dad’s house with her.

I was in a band with Staicha’s boyfriend…which, although it didn’t last long, was a wonderful and interesting experience. I fell in love with a girl named S**** (yes…I suppose your parents didn’t tell you that one either.) and she became my girlfriend. That, however, ended because I fell in love with A**** (guess you’re seeing a whole new side to your ol’ granny now, aren’t you?!) I moved in with her for about a week and then cried so that my mother would allow me to come home to her. We had been dating for more than a year and it only took a week of me actually living with her to realize that I was not really in love, but rather, I was trying to escape my life at home. **** was a bit…odd, and I won’t get into it. I truly hated that woman (and hate is a very strong word that I do not use lightly.) I was diagnosed Bipolar, which I pray is not something that can be passed down. I hurt myself physically, which I pray is something you will never do.

Staicha and I drifted apart in my later years of high school because she moved away with her boyfriend. I had a few friends and a few boyfriends and I loved music. I went to Toronto on a few occasions to sleep on the street. I was very much in love with the homeless. My mom and **** broke apart and my mother broke down…but you’ll be happy to know that she is happy and madly in love now...so all ended well, if this is to be the end.

I made a few new friends in my last year of high school who reintroduced me to God in a completely different way than I had every experienced him. Instead of a mean, controlling dictator, he was a loving, caring friend that I could talk to when I was sad and hurting. Although I have drifted from that path, I am glad that I met those people because they truly changed my life.

I moved to North Bay when I was finished school and got a job at a smoothie shop. I met some interesting people and fell for a tall geeky man with a terribly rude attitude who was a little bit too sadistic for my liking. The relationship did not last long. I fell head over heals for a thirty eight year old man who was a jazz percussionist and we made out on the patio of 100 Georges (which is an old Jazz bar in North Bay.) It was a one night stand that I’m sure I will remember forever.

But the one person that really changed my life was your grandfather. I met Josh at the smoothie shop where I was the manager (called Euphoria). He used to come in about five times a day to get smoothies and coffee and tea and whatever else he could possibly buy. He was a personal trainer and a yoga instructor and boy, did he know how to talk! I told him that he had to come to a Coffee House I was hosting one night for the food bank and he said that he could not because he had other plans. Sure enough, though, he showed up, and after I learned his real name (I thought it was Mark, silly me) we spent the rest of the night talking. I told him he had to walk me home (oh, assertive me) and he obliged. I should mention that it was winter and he whined the entire way there (two blocks) that he was cold. Hahaha. He asked me for my phone number but I wasn’t going to let him off that easy. I told him to come to Euphoria the next day and I would give it to him then. He said okay (but was a little confused, girls can be so cruel). He was too nervous to even initiate the hug that followed.

The next day he came into the shop and I put the phone number on the top of his coffee cup as I handed it to him, hopelessly romantic am I. To my surprise, he called me that night and we talked for four hours! We made a date for that Sunday (the fourteenth of December 2008) and went to the mall to walk and talk and watch people (a silly little hobby of mine.) He took me to dinner and then said he did not want the date to end, so we went to play air hockey at the movie theatre (he beat me…but I’ve since gotten him back!) We went to build a snowman, but failed. We only managed to roll one huge ball and then gave up because it was far too cold. He took me to Tim Horton’s for coffee (he drank green tea… he just loves green tea) and later we went to my apartment and talked the whole night through (I’m giving you the PG version.) and I fell asleep in his arms.

That first date lasted until Christmas, when I had to go away for a week with my family. But he called me and told me that he missed me. Your grandfather was such a romantic.

I love to paint, and your grandfather is a great artist as well. I hope that he will have shown you some of his drawings before you read this so that you will understand. We both love to write. Your grandfather has the most creative ideas, although they are so far a bit too crude for young eyes, I’m sure that in time he will become a published author.

We just bought our first house together eight months ago. It’s a duplex with an apartment upstairs and a decent back yard…but it is not where I want your mom or dad to be born. I am starting school in the fall, and I am scared. I am so lonely here at my work, where no one speaks to me all day. I have no friends, or very few, of my own. I feel like going to University will give me a fresh start… something to look forward to.

I look forward to getting my masters, traveling the world, getting a PhD, volunteering wherever I can. Most of all, I look forward to starting a family with your grandfather. You are so lucky to have a grandpa like him. He is the only one like him in the world.

I guess this letter should have been teaching you some life lessons, but I’m afraid you’ll just have to learn them yourself as you go, like I have and will continue to. Maybe a few words of wisdom before I go. Firstly, I want you to know that you are perfect and wonderful and beautiful. You can be anything or anyone that you want to; you just have to try hard enough. Put others before you whenever possible, but not to the point of harming yourself. You can’t help others if you can not even help yourself. Don’t give up on your dreams, don’t forget who you are, don’t every hurt yourself with hope that it will make you feel better. If you are creative, express yourself. Dress differently, speak differently and act differently. Be unique and don’t be afraid to stand out… but also, don’t be afraid to blend in. Follow the rules that pertain to right and wrong but don’t get so caught up in them that you forget to have fun. Be happy, truly happy and love with everything you have, as I love your grandfather, your parents and you.

Live you life. Be the best you can be. Smile as often as possible.

I look forward to meeting you.

Love,

Your Grandmother