Simply put, I love to read because of my mother.
Whether it was nature or nurture (or most likely a combination of both) that lead me to love reading and writing the way I do, the influence came from my mom.
She’s a librarian and an avid reader just like me. She read to me when I was young, and she let me read to her. When I was in first grade and she was reading Harry Potter aloud to my brother I came into the room and demanded that she start again from the beginning. She did, and whether it’s is silly or not, I count that as one of my defining learning-to-love-reading moments.
She’s always kept a house full of books and a car waiting to take me to the library. I had my own library card before I could write my name straight, and I’ve had my own mini library in my room since before I can remember. I participated in summer reading programs at the library and the Accelerated Reading Program at my elementary school (it’s hard not to read when your mom is your elementary school librarian).
She handed me some of my favorite books for the first time, whether I thought I would like them or not (it wasn’t my tween friends who gave me Twilight, it was my librarian mother), and when I was in a book quiz bowl at school she read all the books along with me.
She attends the midnight premiers of the movie adaptations of our favorite books with me, because we love the same books, and she knows that I love it.
In short, (which this post is not (; ) I wouldn’t be the reader, the writer, or the thinker I am today without my mom and her own love of reading.
So on this Mother’s Day I say thank you, Mom, for helping me to develop one of the most important interests in my life, and for a whole lot more too.