To my grandchildren. How lucky we have been
to call this place home.
There have been so many changes over the years.
I can still so clearly remember the first time I saw a humpback whale.
I heard its powerful breath first,
and turned to see it dive down to the depths.
It's incredible to have watched this species
recover over the years.
These waters have given us so much. They can
be so quiet and peaceful one moment, and so
humbling and powerful the next.
As I write to you today, I can say that we have things to celebrate.
The ocean's fish are returning
in great numbers, and the rivers are running deep with salmon.
The fabled orca have the
space they need to thrive,
and the humpbacks are always keeping watch.
But it was not always the case. When I was
young like you, the future looked bleak.
They told us of a dying ocean, and I saw it with
my own eyes. It seemed too much to overcome.
But little by little, we did.
We dared to dream of a healthy ocean. And
we dared to rethink our laws to better reflect
this dream, and our love for the sea - and
all the humans and animals big and small that rely on it.
And we dared to listen to the
voices of those who have known this coast
the longest, and to respect Indigenous legal
traditions.
I can only begin to describe the feeling of seeing these changes slowly take place over my lifetime.
So I write to you today, my grandchildren,
to tell you that it is worth every effort
to get involved in the wave of momentum that
will shape this coast.
The challenges seemed overwhelming for us, and will for you too. But I look back on the victories we've won
along the way, and the laws we've passed were
some of the greatest triumphs of my life.
Let us celebrate these waters that have given
us so much.
Now, it is your turn. I pass the torch to you.
With love, 
Grandma.
