When I was young, I loved to read. A LOT. You could always find me with my head down and my nose in a book. I read at home, at school, in the car, on the bus.
I missed my stop on the school bus many times because I was reading and didn’t notice we’d reached my home. The driver had to drop me off at the end of the route then. I’m sure he loved me.
Once we could both drive, I let my younger sister drive us to school, so I could spend the time in the car reading.
I read during all of my free periods at school. I hurried from one class to the next so I could read for the few minutes of chaos before the class started. If I could have read while walking down the hallway, I would have.
The library was my favorite place to visit. I’d check out as many books as possible.
I would stay up late at night, reading, until my parents forced me to turn out the light and sleep.
I read so much that my parents issued an edict that I could not read at home in the evenings. They were concerned I wasn’t getting my schoolwork done. I was, in fact, doing my schoolwork during some of those free periods at school, as fast as possible, so I could get back to reading.
Naturally, I wasn’t going to stop reading. So I switched to reading during all my free periods at school and doing homework at night.
My mother used to tell me to get my “nose out of that book” and pay attention to the real world. She thought that I lived in a fantasy world by reading so much.
She was right. I did. The worlds in those books were far more entertaining and exciting than the real life she wanted me to join. At least, I thought so.
All that reading encouraged and fostered my love of writing.
Today, I’m a full-time writer. I spend each day living in a fantasy world of my own making and I love it. My life has never been happier or more fulfilled.
Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death, 13 years ago from cancer.
I think that if she were here today, she’d be proud to see me so happy and I think she’d even appreciate that my happiness comes from living in fantasy worlds.
I miss you, Mom.