I come from a family of readers. Books were always the norm in our household. The moment I learned to read I devoured one after the other. The biggest influence on my love for books and words was my Dad. My earliest memories of him were seeing him either sitting in his chair reading the papers and books piled around him. In the summer he sat out on the porch, cigar in one hand and a book in the other. During the winters in St. Louis would find him in the garage doing the same thing.
He can read books rather fast. I watched him place his finger in the middle of the page and simple scan. Then there are the books he takes his time to read. Words he wants to savor and allow to marinate in his mind and thoughts. Besides the books there are the newspapers. He does not just read the local paper but a few others. From watching this throughout my life I learned to appreciate knowledge and to seek out more than one source for information.
Often an evening could find us sitting in the living room, the television on in the background as my dad, mom and I read. Yes, I grew up reading while watching television. Which became white noise as I read my books. When I think of my dad, it is always with a book or paper in his hands.
Watching him engage in the habit of reading encouraged me to read. If at first I were not a reader, I would never have become a writer. Thank you dad for showing me the joys of reading.
Happy Father’s Day!