I was sitting here thinking about my father this morning. Last Saturday (the 7th) would have been his 83 birthday. Though I miss him, he is still with me. Or, at least, his gifts are. You see, although my father gave me a lot of things in my life, the most enduring, and most loved, was his love of books. It was a love that he passed on to me.
My father was an intelligent man, but not highly educated. Somehow, he knew how to get things done. When I was in the early years of school, I had problems. I was labeled as "slow". Reading was not high on my list of activities. This lasted through third grade. What changed? Two things. A teacher who cared. And a father who figured out what would work for me. The two of them opened up a whole new world - or, rather, worlds - for me. I don't remember much about what the teacher did - other than not belittling me - but I do remember what my dad did. He made learning the written word fun. We turned spelling into games - any time we had to wait in the car, he'd pick out a word on a sign somewhere and challenge me to find other words within that word. My spelling and vocabulary prowess improved immensely.
He also loved crossword puzzles and when he was home in the evenings, would take me up on his lap to help him solve the puzzles. To this day, crossword puzzles are one thing I can't be without.
He also played Scrabble (insert all the requisite copyright stuff here) with me. Right up until I left for college and he declared I had outgrown him. I miss those games.
The other thing he did for me was to buy me books. Books on things I was interested in - horses, mysteries, other animals, etc. By getting me books on things I already had a love for, he fostered the love further through the written word. And I prospered in my reading. When I finally understood, I started reading everything I could. I went from "slow" to "advanced reader" in just a few short years. And I never stopped reading. Each fall, when we received our English lit books in school, I would spend the first week reading the entire tome from cover to cover. I couldn't get enough.
As I sit here in my personal library, surrounded by hundreds of books, I can think of no better legacy my father left me than his love of the written word. And I am more grateful to him for that inheritance than he can ever know. And the love endures as I see my children and grandchildren enjoying their own books. May they continue to do so.
Thanks, Dad.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
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2 comments:
Very touching, Vicky. My father also loved books. He dropped out of school in 10th grade to join the army and fight in WWII but he continued his education his entire life by reading. I'm sure my love of the written word came from him. I wish he'd been around to see me get published.
And Scrabble is huge in our house and very competitive.
Hi, Vicky!
Your father reminds me so much of my beloved Mom. She nurtured my love of reading well before I started school. Our many visits to the library remain among my fondest memories. She was an avid reader of romance fiction and women's fiction. Adored doing crossword puzzles. Your mention of playing word games with your father reminded me of similar times with my mother. Indeed, our loved ones who are no longer with us physically will always live in our hearts and minds as those who brought us much love--for them, for our family members, and for the written word :)
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