My mother was an avid reader and she passed that on to us girls. We made many trips to the library, my favourite place, and we were always gifted books and allowed to buy them as treats. I fondly remember weekends, reading with my mom in her big bed, followed by a nap. My dad always had some raggedy paperback on the side table and he loved to leisurely read the paper over coffee.
Books became my salvation and for a shy girl they were my friend on the lonely playground. I bonded with other shy girls over books and they added to my conversations with cousins I visited occasionally. As a teen, the guys in the library, not the sports field, seemed more intriguing.
I passed the love of reading to my son and our first day home from the hospital ended with me reading to my swaddled baby from the stacks of picture books I filled his nursery with. As he grew his little hands would help me to open the flaps on his favourite pop up book. We bonded over the Harry Potter series and many vacations were spent listening to these treasured gems on the car CD.
The night we lined up at our local bookstore waiting for the clock to strike midnight so we could buy two copies of the latest release was so memorable. We decided to race each other to see who would finish first, and he cheated by starting while I had to drive home. We snuggled in his bed and read half the night away, though I caught up once he finally fell asleep.
He still loves to read and now takes many of the underprivileged kids he works with to the library as an outing. Momma is proud. As his wedding approaches, and perhaps grand babies are next, I have started to buy picture books………