Dear Bill

By Raymond D. Cohen

Dear Bill,

I wanted to drop you a note, a private word, so I figured, "What the heck -- I may as well print 65,000 copies . . . "

Bill, I know that you’re a realist (O.K., so maybe you’re not a realist -- maybe more a visionary and a fighter) . . .

I was thinking about the work you and the Neil Squire Foundation have done in trying to make sure that people with disabilities have a reasonable guaranteed income; that they have access to jobs and educational opportunities -- and that the technology is in place so that quality of living is within the reach of as many people as possible -- and how you personally go the mile in so many other ways . . .

Bill, I want to thank you for the phone call when I was struggling to get ABILITIES rolling, and for the encouragement to carry on; I wanted to thank you for our meeting there in Deep Cove -- I guess I never told you that I felt like I was being granted an audience by the Pope of High Tech Solutions for people with disabilities.

I was having a beer with your friend Gary Birch, your acting executive director, late last week in an Ottawa hotel.

Gary told me about how when your cousin, Neil Squire, became injured you weren’t willing to believe that there was nothing that could be done to help; that you thought, "Bullshit, if society is going to benefit by keeping valuable people alive, then society has an obligation to make sure that quality of life is available . . ."

You saw that Neil’s handle on life was going to be the computer . . . Gary said that you definitely had the technical knowledge -- and the vision -- but he’s still not sure whether you can type a letter on the damn thing -- that you keep saying you should join your own Computer Comfort Club . . .

Gary said that you used the word "empower" before it was fashionable . . .

Bill, he told me that you’re having good days and bad days right now -- but nobody will laugh louder than you when you beat this thing . . . There’s a lot of people casting good energy your way. Myself, all I really want to do is just write to you about some personal thoughts I’ve had as of late . . .

Bill, a long time ago I found myself laughing with a trusted friend.

It wasn’t just a little chuckle. No, we’re talking serious giggling; we’re talking "tickle-grade" giggling; the kind of giggling that is so intense, so all-consuming that before you know it the very cause of the giggling is left behind -- all we were doing was laughing . . . no other thoughts, no other feelings, no preoccupations with anything else -- just laughing . . .

After the fact, once my conscious mind reclaimed possession of my faculties, I realized that at the height of our laughter, there was no difference between us -- in that moment we were one and the same.

My friend went away.

I found myself with other friends; over time, with many other friends. I laugh with them too. . . Sometimes, for the briefest moments, I recognize a tone, a word, an inflection, a mannerism which I know comes from my friend who went away . . .

Sometimes, when I think about it, I am comforted by the truth that in my moments of cosmic giggling, when I set the limitations of the intellectual mind aside, when I am just giggling,
it may as well be my friend doing the laughing . . .

Bill, thank you for laughing with so many of us.

When we last saw each other you said goodbye; that we may not see much of each other again; that time may be limited.

NOT!

Bill, whatever route you take, lots of us will find you where we work, where we live, where we talk, where we build, where we invent, where we fight, where we love -- where we giggle
. . . and Bill, it may as well be you doing the laughing.

We’ll be seeing you!

Affectionately,
Ray

(Bill Cameron is the founder of the Neil Squire Foundation, an organization which has enhanced the lives of thousands of people with disabilities in Canada.)