Mom, the Book Queen

Last year about this time, my momma came to my classroom. She was in town for another shindig, and I talked her into being a guest speaker. She was scared. I was excited! She was worried. I was thrilled!

In the end, she was incredible!

See, my momma taught me to love reading. I have never, NEVER seen anyone devour a book the way Mom does. My childhood is filled with images of her in the navy recliner, nearby lamp lighting the words she inhaled. She read those dense books with thousands of pages. She read those books with the Fabio-looking guy on the cover, his hair blowing in an imaginary wind, a desperate girl draped on his arm. And she read as many books as she could carry home from the library.

Go, Rangers!

In summers, Mom took my brother and me to the local library once a week typically. At first, I played in the children's section, listening to read-alouds and puppet shows and wandering between shelves. I made piles of books covered with illustrated dragons and puppy dogs, alphabets and Strawberry Shortcakes, all ready to be checked out with my orange library card. Eventually, I graduated from that section, venturing through the double doors to a world of series like Little House on the Prairie and Sweet Valley High. It felt like a milestone, a benchmark moment. Yet, I could still never bring home as many books as Mom. Her pile always towered over mine, and she always read them. All of them. In a week.

On our way to my classroom!

Now here she was to talk reading to my students. Please understand, my mother is a typical introvert. She blushes at public attention and prefers the company of smaller groups. Having said that, she looked unfazed and unruffled as first period entered. I rolled out my overstuffed black chair, a throne of sorts for the book queen, and down she sat to take questions.  My juniors quizzed her.

"What made you love reading?"
"What is your favorite book?"
"How do you read so much?"
"What are your best stories about Mrs. Friend as a kid?"

Guess I should have known that last one was coming! In both classes that morning, Mom explained that picking a favorite book is difficult - so very difficult - when you love a good story, strong character, and beautiful word on the page. She read early and often and never quit. She explained how reading is so important to her that she simply makes time for it. She works more quickly on her daily tasks and prioritizes what needs to be done so she can get to her stories. She reads in paper and in digital. It doesn't matter to Mom; she just reads. She also completely shocked the students with the number of books she reads in a year. When she estimated between 60 or 70 minimum, she was totally guessing, but I'm certain she wasn't far off. The juniors were amazed!

I think she told a few anecdotes on me that day too. I remember her mentioning my chatty, big mouth - but then I think she blamed that one on Dad! I think she also mentioned my habit of being slightly delayed for curfew. Oops. The students, of course, thought that was hilarious.

It was such a phenomenal day.

In another life that led my mom to college, she would have been a teacher. And what an amazing one she would make! Her deep kindness and incredible heart would love every student, every minute. And she would get them all to read. ALL of them. Because that's who she is.

Before we saw The Book Club play!

So today, I honor my momma and thank her for giving me such a gift in reading. I love it too, even if Fabio is on the cover, and I make time for it as often as I can. But maybe the best part of that gift is that I get to talk books and share this gift - and the books themselves - with my mom.