A Letter to Mom
You are the reason I am able to buckle down and write.
I am remembering when you would, each night without fail, sit down at the kitchen table with the boys and I after a long workday to help us with our papers. I always thought it was because you loved us so much - never imagined it could be that you simply loved to write. Now I think maybe it was both.
I can remember the weekends when I would play with fisher price dolls on the floor in your office while the keyboard went CLICK - CLICK - CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. The sweet smell of old wooden chairs mixing with fresh cut grass outside the dusty, open window brings the happy memory bubbling to the surface of my beating heart. I do not think I ever truly left that itchy carpet in your office with keys going CLICK.
I have come to realize I naturally find a sense of comfort and excitement, instead of fear, when faced with a blank page or a white canvas. This is because of the confidence you channeled every time you sat down to write. Whether I was aware of it as a child, I cannot be sure. But your strong creative spirit has seeped into my bones nonetheless and I am forever grateful for it.
I wanted to share this nostalgic hijack of my ever-wandering imagination in hopes that these words may help you see yourself through the eyes of your daughter - who thinks the world of you and boldly explores the world because of you.
"First get it all down on paper, then go back and edit later." - Kaira Rouda