This morning I woke up to find five text messages from my mom. Panic quickly bubbled inside me.
Is everyone okay?
What did I do?
My panic quickly ebbed away when I actually took a breath and read the message:
I was reading a lot of your Slices…you are truly gifted expressing yourself in words. The one about Lake Geneva is just beautiful and had me tearing up. I am so proud of you. I am so proud of you. I am so proud of you.
After I finished giggling about that fact that my mom’s phone must of stuck since I received the same message three times…I was in awe. I mean, I know I had shared a few Slices with my mom via Facebook because they were about our family, but I never thought she would be going through my old ones and reading them. Even at my age, when my mom tells me she is proud of me, I beam and blush and tear up a bit. I love that my mother is proud of my writing, but I hope she knows that her and my father should be proud of themselves. I mean it’s basically their fault.
It’s all their fault for reading to me religiously, and fostering my imagination. Taking me to the library as often as possible and buying me books, so that I could experience the way authors share their stories and ideas.
It’s all their fault for inspiring me to write stories for the Young Author’s Contest, and then taking me to Bloomington when I won, so that I could know what it felt like to actually be an author and share my story with others.
It’s all their fault for being my editors throughout my school and college career. Reading and rereading my papers that were due. Helping me choose the write wording or correct mistakes, so that I could really showcase my writing skills and intelligence.
It’s all their fault for always encouraging me to live my dream to be a teacher. Supporting me from 1st grade until now, no matter how stressful it got for all of us. Listening to my fears and applauding my achievements, all of which lead me to where I am now. So, that now I can foster my students’ writing goals and help them be the best authors they can be.
I may be the one who puts the words and ideas and stories on the paper, but it is my parents’ fault for instilling in me the courage, imagination, and creativity to share my ideas and feelings with this wonderful writing community.