The Autobiography of Mahatma Gandhi

A book with a very clever and revealing title. In my reading of the book, the title refers to the fact that his autobiography is going to experiment with telling you some truths and not all the truths. Gandhi experiments with telling readers the ‘true’ story of his life. The title is a frank admission that not all things can or should be told. A lesson that you as the writer of your letter have the power to be selective.

Gandhi makes it easier to read his biography by breaking his nearly 500 page book into five parts with a total of 167 chapters. It is easier to get through chapters that are only four to five pages long. This is a good technique to make both the writing and the reading easier. 

I really like Hal Urban books. I think they should be in almost everyone’s home. Yes, they are that good. They are fundamental. They help people.

One of his best books is entitled “Life’s Greatest Lessons: 20 Things That Matter.” It is a collection of very short, but very helpful essays on 20 valuable life lessons that everyone should know and apply in their lives.

He starts the book with a page entitled “If Someone Gave You This Book.” Below is what he writes on this opening page. It nearly perfectly states exactly what I think a “Letter to Your Grandchildren” is intended to do.

“The person who gave you this book cares about you and wants the best for you. That’s what friends and family members do. We want to pass on the great lessons that life has taught us.” He goes on to say, “It’s given to you as a gift along with the hope and prayer that it will help you think about and better understand the real meaning of success. Please accept it in that spirit, and pass it on to others.”

He ends the page with the following quote from Martin Tipper.

“A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.”

I agree. A loving and helpful grandparent is a great friend. They can help you today and help the people they love forever.

Write your letter.

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”

Benjamin Franklin

Considered by many to be one of the first modern day autobiographies is “The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.”

It is a wonderful book that covers the history of his life and the sharing of his philosophies that he felt might help those that read his book. It is an excellent combination of storytelling and conveying important life lessons. His covers his trials and tribulations in the business world from being an indentured servant to winning printing contracts with Pennsylvania legislature. His experiments with electricity and inventing the lightening rod. How we worked for the common good and created libraries and the American postal service.

He explains his philosophies and what he valued in a good person in his method of tracking transgressions of the thirteen virtues he aspired to: temperance, silence, order, resolution, frugality, industry, sincerity, justice, moderation, cleanliness, tranquility, chastity and humility. He tracked his daily failures pursuing these virtues. It is interesting to note that he tracked his failures, not his successes. He was wise enough to know that he would fail repeatedly. He was strong enough to know that he could make daily progress toward his goals.

This is a great example of letter or book written with the intention of helping future generations. 

Throughout history people have been writing letters to their grandchildren – they just didn’t call them that. They called them memoirs and autobiographies. I consider most of them to be a form of a letter to your grandchildren. They told the story of their lives. They wrote about what was important to them and how they overcame challenges.

I will focus on several of the these memoirs, autobiographies or letters in my next series of articles. They provide examples of how people have been writing their stories for centuries. They are the best examples of how people tried to help future generations by sharing their life stories.

“The Story of My Life” by Helen Keller

This is  an awesome book written by a blind and deaf woman. Pause and just think about that. She can’t see anything and she can’t hear anything. Spend 60 seconds with your eyes closed and pretend you can’t see or hear anything. Total darkness and silence for the rest of your life.

Thanks to Anne Sullivan who had to work so hard and so long to break into that darkness, Helen finally broke out of that kind of hell by understanding that the way Anne Sullivan’s fingers were moving meant “water.” Helen broke through her endless silent night of suffering and learned to communicate with finger gestures. As touch was her only way of communication, she poured her life into reading sign language and reading Braille. 

Helen eventually learned four different languages; English, French, German and Latin. She graduated from Radcliffe University. She played chess and rode bicycles. Yes, it was on the back of tandem bike. She read hundreds of books and she wrote her own biography. If a blind and deaf person can write their autobiography, can you? 

The image above is of three of five grandchildren taken on beach in Maui, Hawaii. I wish all five grandchildren were in it. I guess I will just have to arrange a trip with all my grandchildren and re-take the picture. 

I love the image and it is very symbolic of what I am trying to accomplish with my blog and my book. It is the sunset of my life. My grandchildren are looking at me during the sunset of my life. I like to think that they are looking for the stories and wisdom of my life. All three of them are looking in my direction. I have their attention.

I have a unique and great opportunity to tell my story. I cannot and will not pass up on this teachable moment. I will write the stories of my life. I own the pen that writes who I was and what I did. The time to write my story is limited – the sun is setting.

This week a high school teacher passed away at 84. He was a great man that dedicated 49 years of service to that high school. One of his greatest contributions was setting up a charitable organization that build Habitat for Humanity houses in Tijuana, Mexico. He built over 100 homes in 20 years. He was kind, loving and caring.

The high school setup a memorial on campus where you could bring flowers or other tokens of gratitude. I took a picture he and I taken months ago along with images of his Tijuana Mission homes and a picture of the Pythagorean Theorem as he taught me geometry in High School. I was saddened by the lack of any flowers and tokens. This man had dedicated his life to helping other people for 49 years and there was hardly anything there. Could all that love and hard work be forgotten so easily?

I walked through some of the classrooms I had memorable classes in. It brought back many memories. One of those memories is the speech given by the valedictorian of our 1976 class. He started his speech by saying, “If you want to know what you will contribute to the world, stick your head in a bucket of water and then pull it out. Look at the water. That’s what you will contribute to humanity.” I received that jolting prediction 47 years ago. No way. That can’t be true. I will leave something. I will do something with my life.

As I approach my life’s finish line, I wonder.

I think that if I don’t leave a letter to my grandchildren, what will I have done for humanity? Will I leave just a temporary disturbance to the water that calms to flatness in seconds?

I don’t remember any other part of the valedictorian’s speech so I had to finish it myself. “It’s about choices. I can choose to live a life that leaves no ripple or improvement or I can choose to leave something of value that will live beyond my own life. The choice is mine.”

I am currently working to complete a book on writing a letter to your grandchildren. I strongly believe this book can help your grandchildren, yourself and the world in general. I have been working on it for three years. Yes, it is taking me a long time, but then again it is my first book.

I made a brave and expensive decision to hire an editor. It was hard to ask for help, but I did it.

I submitted my first draft and waited about four weeks for the editor to send me back a marked-up copy. Ouch. Dozens and dozens of corrections and suggestions for changing so many things. I have always had a hard time with criticism and this was one of the worst. My first response was hurt and knee jerk defensiveness. It took me many days to recover enough to realize that they were not calling my baby ugly, they were trying to help me.

For about six weeks I worked on making changes. Most of the suggestions, I had to agree with. Some I had to think through and disagree with. Last week I happily completed all the changes and sent back my revised second draft back to the editor. Sending it back gave me a great sense of accomplishment and relief. It was like a weight had been lifted off me.

Now I wait for the editor to return their second round of changes. I like to think I am now a little better prepared for “edits.” They will still sting like slings and arrows, but hopefully there will be a little less bloodshed. It’s all in the way I think about it. They are not criticizing me, they are helping me. Easier said than done.

My goal is to publish this book in January of 2024. It is good that I have a completion date. Goals without dates are just dreams. My book is more than a dream. It is my sculpture buried in the block of marble. I will keep chipping away until it is done.

I lost a dear friend on Monday. I had known him for 24 years. I worked with him, but he was more than a co-worker. He was a friend. He was a brother. We could have been twins. Both of us were born in 1958, both married in 1982, both had three children. We were the same height. We were very similar in many ways. I helped him and he helped me. He made me a better person. I will forever be grateful for his guidance, wisdom and friendship.

So what do I do now?

I count my blessings.

I am grateful I had a friend that I knew always had my back. He lifted my spirit when I needed it. He pushed me to always do the best I could. He helped me understand that I could always do a little more and do a little better. He celebrated with me when I succeeded and gave me hand up when I didn’t succeed at first.

I am also grateful that I woke up this morning. There is no justice or fairness to why I am here and he is not here. It doesn’t make any sense. I can only respond with “There, but for the grace of God I go.” Let me not waste today. Let me practice what I believe. Let me help someone. Let me lift a burden. Let me make a positive difference in someone’s life. 

Okay, I should have known this. It’s only rational when you really think about. My dad even told me about this. I guess I wasn’t ready to hear it.

“Once you become a parent, your job never ends. Never.”

Somewhere in my head, I this idea that you were a parent for 20 years until they became an adult. Your primary job was to raise them well enough they could stand alone on their own two feet. I was wrong.

A friend of mine said the other day, “You will spend twice as much time parenting adult children as you did parenting your young children.” Holy smokes Batman! It’s true. You parent them as ‘young children’ from birth to about age 20. You parent them as ‘adult children’ until you die. Until you die. They are going to ask for help when they are 30, 40, 50 and maybe even 60 if you live that long.

You can’t run away from this. It’s your job. The parenting changes dramatically. In many ways easier. In some ways, much harder.

What’s going to make this Sisyphean task a little easier it to get some help. If you can bestow your best wisdom and the wisdom of your parents and their parents. It’s going to this endless task just a little bit better.

Write a letter to your grandchildren.

What would you rather receive from you grandparents – money or letter that told you about their life and their best words of advice? 

The first answer would be both.

But what if you had to choose.

That would then bring up the obvious question – “How much money?” If it was a million dollars, you would obviously choose the money. But what if it was a hundred dollars? Which would you choose?

Me, I would go with the words. Maybe it is because I am 64 years old and a hundred dollars doesn’t mean as much as would to someone that is 24 years old. Maybe, because I would see the hundred dollars as buying a tank of gas that would last a week versus words that would tie me closer to my family and provide wisdom and encouragement that could last beyond a single lifetime.

Words bring family ties and roots.

Words can comfort and inspire. 

Words can last for generations.

Money is gone in no time.