From my earliest memories, I can remember Mom reading to me every night before bedtime. I went to sleep dreaming of the characters in the stories and wondering… what if?
During dinner, she’d listen to me as I read books out loud, helping me whenever I got stuck on something. When her health began to fail, she moved in with us. She read something I’d written and believed in me so much, that she took on cooking and laundry so I’d have time to write.
I owe my love of words, my love of reading and writing to my mother. This month we would have celebrated her birthday. But, Mom died a few years ago, and although she never saw me make it to print, she believed in me. This post is dedicated to her. Thanks, Mom. I always believed in you, too. Always will.
Is there someone who forever changed your life? Who was it that first got you into reading or writing?