My Cancer of the Larynx

In the fall of 1981 I was diagnosed with cancer of the larynx.  The surgery wouldn't follow until July 13th, 1983. 

Letter from Josh on my 95th Birthday

On my 95th birthday last December I received a wonderful package (prepared by Emily) of more than 95 cards, pictures, notes, and memorabilia.  On of many treasures was this letter from my grandson Josh.

As some may know, I (Joshua Daniel Jackson) was adopted into this family; rather than being brought into a family through more ... traditional means.  And when I was younger, I spent a good deal of time trying to understand what that really meant. I realize now that much of what I was trying to understand during that time in my life was: What does it mean to be a part of a family? What does it mean to be a part of this family?

This question stayed with me, in ways that not even I understood, for years. And the more time I spent in Houston. The more time I spent as a child and as a teen with my grandparents especially. The more the answers came. Not all at once by any means; but instead, they came in bits and pieces. I remember hearing stories of an Internist who pushed for changes within the institutions he worked for; because he could no longer stand by and watch his hospital sell cigarettes in the lobby to patients, who would then come upstairs to him with emphysema and lung cancer. A man who would make house calls when it was no longer in fashion.

I slowly began to comprehend what it meant for an Intellectual to leave his home, travel to a new country, and start a life over from scratch. Selling shoes in a company town. I learned why it was important to give back to your community and to those less fortunate within it; no matter how much wealth you had, no matter how much of it you had built on your own. I learned the value of listening instead of talking, of preparing instead of reacting, and of making sure that I do things correctly the first time. No matter how trivial the task was. I learned from my grandfather the importance of treating relationships, not like the means to an end. But like the end itself.

As I grew older, I began to notice that some of the values that I had grown into over the years were not quite as common as I would wish them to be. But in my travels to Le Madeline, for coffee, croissants and quiet conversation I found that even if my grandfather and I took differing routes to come to a conclusion. We often came to one that I found more agreeable than any I could find with (more than) most of my peers. Even with a multigenerational gap between us. I found that my grandfather was more progressive in his thinking than those who had inherited the world from his generation; In fact, even more than their children.

Grandpa, you have been called a renaissance-man while being celebrated on occasions such as this one. But you aren't a renaissance-man. You're not just a renaissance-man anyway. You're more than that. You, Dan Jackson, are timeless. At times, you make the most liberal teens I've met look like anachronistic relics. At others, you make the most conservative traditionalists I've met look like children, ignorant to the values of their families and of their people. You've shown me why it is good to be a quiet thoughtful man. And why it is better to love a strong outspoken woman. The courage, strength and compassion that you and grandma have displayed, -even in the small portion of your lives that I have had the pleasure of taking part in- continues to astound and inspire those around you. And I feel as though that may never change. The imprint that you have left on the world, and on your children, grandchildren, even greatgrandchildren is strong and it will likely outlast all of us. I hope the same of you. I love you Grandpa. And I hope you have a Happy Birthday. I am trying to find my way to Houston. I don't expect to make it before the New Year. But I hope to see you shortly thereafter.