Drip, drop
Rain flip flops
Pitter, patter
Skitter, scatter
Plops, plops, plops
Behold the first poem I ever wrote. I was either in the
second or third grade. After reading it, my mother thought I was a writing
genius. I kid you not. Now, for an elementary kid’s class assignment, it wasn’t
bad. But the reason mother loved it so was because I wrote it. She was being
supportive of me, and hopeful that her enthusiasm might turn into my promise.
My mom’s faith in me is one of the reasons I am a writer today.
When I was thirteen
my mother and I were in a drugstore where I spied a book that caught my
attention and wouldn’t let go. A hard bodied blond man on the cover clutching a
beautiful scantily dressed female is definitely an eye opener for a teen. I saw
that book and had to have it. My mother was used to me asking her to buy a book
every week. I suppose she’d rather spend her money on reading materials than
clothes or whatever else teens desired. However, this was the first time I had
asked her for a bodice ripper. Jane Austen this was not. And yet with almost no
hesitation, she put it on the counter with the rest of her purchases. Captive Caress (yes, she bought me a
book titled Captive Caress) opened my
eyes to romance novels and I haven’t looked back since. It is a love that has
lasted me for decades and for that I must thank my mother.
Seymore’s belief that I could do anything (including write)
and her willingness to indulge me in a new passion (Captive Caress wasn’t the last romance novel she bought me, as you
can guess) has molded me into the writer I am today. On this Mother’s Day I’d
like to thank my mother for being a great person and an even better mom. Hopefully
she’s reading this blog post and smiling down on me.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of the moms out there, you deserve
every accolade you receive!
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