The Greatest Gift I Gave My Mother

Why I write

In all the years I’ve known my mother, I’ve never seen her read. Maybe the exceptions to that statement would be the notes teachers would send home when I was in elementary school, the mail, and her messages. Still, I have never known my mom to read for pleasure, only out of necessity. Oh, it’s not that we didn’t have anything worth reading in the house. While my father and I grew up with our noses buried in books, my mom never touched them. She strayed away from them as if they were poisonous.

My mother never went to college. She got through high school with C’s and then went to work in a department store. She has since then been employed at various companies, each time working her way up. My mom isn’t stupid or incompetent. She is hard working and determined. And while we have very little in common — I am proud of her.

What I have always been sure of is that my mom is not illiterate. She simply didn’t read. Part of me thinks this is because she was afraid to and maybe a little embarrassed. Another part of me knows what some people just don’t like reading. Whatever the reason, I grew up without my mom reading anything.

Now that I am an adult, I live halfway across the country from my parents. We stay connected through this group text message the three of us have going on. Whenever I write something that goes online, I text my parents the links. It’s easier for them that way, and that’s what they requested. Just the other day, I had three articles published between different places in the short span of a few hours. I sent them the links, as always. When my mother got the messages she responded by saying,

“Great! Let me start reading…. I am going to read more than I ever have in all of my life.”

It was the best remark anyone could have ever given me.

Later that evening my father called me and we talked about what my mom said. He told me, “It’s true. She comes home from work and the first thing she does is open up the computer to see if you’ve written anything new. And she reads.” Not only that, but I found out my mom is reading what other people have to say. She’ll click on the latest links by other authors that pop up under my post or on the sides of others, and she reads those as well. She passes the time by discovering who else is a writer and what they write about.

It’s becoming a habit.

As writers, we are constantly trying to create posts that we think our readers will enjoy. We seek to inspire, to create specific emotions, to inform. We draw from our own life experiences and journeys and we bravely speak our mind. Often times, our articles will draw negative comments. People will hate what we have to say. It is at times discouraging.

But I will never stop now. I will continue to write forever, if it means my mother will continue to read. It is my inspiration. Knowing that my mom is now reading because of me, because of my words, I love that. In all my life it is the greatest gift I could have ever given her, and I will give it for the rest of my life.