I was sitting here and contemplating a few things, but more than anything I was remembering my grandmother. Today she would have been 83 years young, and although I miss her endlessly, I thank her for all of her support.
My granny was my biggest advocate and support. Even at a very young age, she saw that when other kids wanted to play, I was content with a book. I can remember her always saying that if enough people read books then the world might not be so ignorant. Not really knowing what that meant at that age, she was always there to fuel my reading fire. Her gifts to me were subscriptions to reading clubs like the Baby sitters club and yes Harlequin Romance novels. The fights between her and my mother were endless as they would argue over why my grandmother would let me read romance novels at the age of 9. Young age, yes I agree but I’m glad she did.
It was interesting reading romance novels and not having the slightest clue what some of the graphic details were but then it got me researching and asking questions. For those who knew my granny, she did not beat around the bush. Ask her a question and you will get a very real answer. And one that might leave you with you jaw on the floor from shock. Nonetheless everyone loved her for it. Granny was a big advocate of “give her the facts now so that she can make better decisions as she gets older”. Sex education came at a very young age with her, and there definitely wasn’t a stork involved nor birds and bees. lol
If I were an addict, books were my addiction and granny was my supplier. Feeding my habit every chance she got, from gifts for every occasion, to buying them at the book fair at school, to picking up books from the goodwill. Yes, I was addicted to them from the very beginning and the more I read the more my vocabulary increased (because I was looking words p in the dictionary that I didn’t know), which in turn improved my spelling. My elementary school couldn’t believe my state reading test scores were that of a college level student. I became familiar with To Kill a Mockingbird, Lord of the Flies and authors such as Daniel Steele, Sandra Brown, Alice Walker, and so many others. Reading lead to poetry and poetry to writing. I broadened my mind by entering young author competitions in elementary school and winning, to writing essays that won contest in high school, to even writing my first young adult novel then (which is all handwritten in notebooks and unedited and unpublished).
I look back on these memories and all I can do is smile. Granny encouraged me to do that which I loved and have loved for as long as I can remember. I thank her for encouraging me and feeding my habit. Today I still read like 90 going north, and even review books and have a book blog (I never saw that coming). I’ve even started on a new novel. Reading is my solace, my comfort, and yes I get bitchy when interrupted from a good book. Reading is my escape from reality and always has been. There is nothing like black ink on white paper bounded together with a journey yet to be revealed (now this includes my Kindle). Later on Granny revealed to me that she used to do the same thing in which I found comfort in; devour a good book in a matter of hours only to start again with a new one. I miss her dearly, but I know that each time I start a new book, it’s like she’s there with me and I take comfort in that.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANNY!!!