To my grandson Abdeel L. Martin,

 

August 17, 2031. Yesterday you were born. I was not there to celebrate your birth. Truth be told, I may never see you in person. But I write this with the hope that one day you will read this and know all the people and events that led to your wondrous birth.

 

Abdeel. I know that when you enter school you will be one of many Abdeels. From what I understand, the name is Hebrew for “servant of God.” Seems like a lot of parents are using Old Testament names these days.

 

The L in your name is interesting. When your father called, he said that it was just an initial. But I think it stands for Lorenzo. That is my name. It was my father’s name. It was also the name of an uncle I am sure you will hear about, but will never meet.

 

But here’s a shocker. Your last name, Martin, was not your father’s original last name. Your father was born Jose Martinez. How he became Joseph Martin is a rather common story. These are not widely told stories. But by the time you are able to read this letter, the story I am about to share with you might be legal to tell again.

 

I suppose it all started in January 2007. I was just about to turn 40. Your dad was about 4. You had an aunt who was 10 and an uncle who was 15. And your grandmother was a year younger than me.

 

At the time I did not think that things would turn out for me the way they have. In 2007, I had recently earned my MBA and was working as a manager for what was a well-known public relations firm.

 

I remember being really sad at the time. I had designed posters for some candidates who were running for Congress in Arizona in the 2006 elections. They all lost, even though everyone thought they were going to win. A lot of people who were going to vote for them were not allowed to vote because they did not have all the proper identification.

 

And it was not just in Arizona. All over the country people were saying that the voting machines were not working properly.

 

In that election, everyone thought that Democrats were going to win most of the races. Just in case you’re wondering. “Democrats” was the name of a political party that used to exist when your dad was a little boy. When you get to college, there might be a class that talks about the Democratic president Franklin Roosevelt who is now thought to be an antichrist figure.

 

But the Democrats did not win. In fact, the Republicans ended up winning even more spots in Congress than they already had. Here I go again. Throwing out words that will have no meaning to you. In case you are wondering, the Ministry used to be called Republicans.

 

We were at war with a country called Iraq. It’s now called West Bushland, our greatest ally. At the time, it was thought that a lot of bad people were there learning how to kill Americans. I am sure you will learn in school that Iraq was full of sick, violent people who killed innocent women and children for the fun of it.

 

Because we were told at the time that we were the only country strong enough to defeat that evil, we committed all of our resources to winning this war.

 

Your uncle Lorenzo was a very smart boy. He had the best grades you could get. I remember him telling me how he was going to go to college to learn how to be a doctor. When he turned 18 in 2010 he was drafted into the army.

 

I did everything I could to get him into college, but I had lost my job a few years earlier and had spent all of our family savings. My company lost its license because public relation firms that did political work were outlawed. Because I had worked on Democratic campaigns, no one would hire me.

 

So I became a janitor at a hospital.

 

Your uncle was not meant to be a soldier. He was creative. He loved music and art. In mid 2011 was sent to West Bushland, I mean Iraq. A month after getting there, he was captured by soldiers America had trained to be the new Iraq army.

 

Some of his fellow soldiers found his body on a road near their base. The Army told me that he had died fighting many enemies. About a year after he died, one of his buddies told me what had really happened.

 

Your uncle’s buddy said that he had been tortured. I won’t tell you exactly what happened because I still have nightmares thinking about his last few hours on Earth. But it was common for both sides of the war to torture the other side.

 

Your dad has a nice memorial for your uncle at your house. I saw it once. It is nice. It says that he was a hero who fought for our freedom. I suppose it is better to believe that.

 

The only good thing about the whole thing was that your grandmother was not around to have to deal with it.

 

She died in 2010 from cancer. Your grandmother was beautiful. She had the most beautiful hazel eyes in the world. Her brown hair was soft and long. She was so proud of her hair. She had the most beautiful complexion too. She was what we call gueda, which is Spanish for light-skinned.

 

In 2009 we found out that she had developed skin cancer. Back then we did not have all the outdoor coverings that we have today. At the time, our leaders did not care about the way the Earth was changing. They had been told that the weather was changing, but the people in power said that we needed to use even more of the products that scientists said were bad for us.

 

Arizona used to be a very dry place. You might hear old timers like me talk about “dry heat.” Now everything is so humid and I can’t stand to be outside for more than a few minutes. But I suppose it is nice in January when it goes down to the mid 90s.

 

Your grandmother’s cancer spread quickly. Back then we had what was called health insurance. People used insurance to help them pay for their hospital bills. Unfortunately, we did not have insurance. We paid as much as we could, but we could not pay for the types of treatment that might have made your grandmother better.

 

The worst part was when she lost all her hair. She had fought the cancer so hard. But when she lost her beloved hair she lost the will to fight.

 

You are so lucky that your father works at a company that has its own hospital and doctors.

 

I mentioned your uncle and your grandmother. You’re probably wondering about that aunt I was talking about.

 

Like your uncle Lorenzo, your aunt Maria was very smart. She was about 14 when your uncle died. She took it very hard.

 

When she turned 20 in 2017 she joined a group that wanted to end all the wars that were going on. That group used to plan peaceful protests against the war. At one protest she threw a rock at a tank.

 

She was arrested. We did not hear from her for five years. When she was finally allowed to call she mentioned that she had been arrested as what was called an enemy combatant. They did not have to tell her what she was arrested for.

 

I hear from her every couple of years. I think she might be released from jail soon. I hope so. I would like to see her once more before I die.

 

I am so glad that your father has made a good life for himself and his family.

 

Just like your aunt and uncle, your dad is very smart. That is how he met your mother. In high school they met at an academic function. They were both seniors. Your dad was getting ready to be drafted into the army.

 

Your mother’s father was a big-time executive and Cheney USA, the big company that makes all those neat bombs and other guns. She was able to convince your other grandfather to get your dad a job at Cheney USA.

 

But your dad first had to change his name. That was so hard for both of us, but I told him he had to do it to make a good life for himself.

 

Since 2007, it’s been hard for people with surnames that are considered “Mexican.” A long time ago, Americans were very mad that people from Mexico were coming here to work. They did not come legally like they can now.

 

There were walls built along the border. I remember hearing stories about groups of people who would go hunting for people who were trying to come to America illegally. Because the Mexicans were considered enemy combatants, it was legal for regular Americans to shoot them when they saw them.

 

Even though my family has been Americans sine 1912 (when Arizona became a state), I am still called wetback and illegal alien.

 

I am so glad your father does not have to deal with this. He is so lucky to be guedo like your grandmother.

 

Now your father is a boss at Cheney USA. This means you’ll be able to become part of the Ministry when you get older.

 

As for me, I don’t think I’ll be around to see you become a great man. I am 65 now. My body is beat. I am not able to get the medical care I need. I would like to retire, but my retirement age is not until 79.

 

I remember when my dad retired. He was able to live on this program that was called Social Security. It’s too bad we don’t have that anymore. Social Security was money that the government would give to you when you retired. But it was not free money. If you worked all your life, part of your paycheck was taken out to pay for everyone’s Social Security.

 

All the Social Security money ran out in 2015. We had to use it to pay for the war in West Bushland.

 

So my grandson, I have to end this letter now. It is getting hard to type with the arthritis in my fingers. There is so much more I would like to tell you. I wish so much to hold you. But I don’t want people to find out your father has a brown father.

 

Everyday I will pray for you. I will dream about you until my last day. All I can hope is that you grow up to be a good man.

 

Your grandfather,

 

Lorenzo Martinez