My grandmother passed away today. Not entirely unexpected, she’d been unwell for a while. I was thinking about what I’d learned from her and I realized in a way she’s shaped the person I am today by passing on her love of romance novels.
Whenever we visited her, I had to read something and I always ran out of whatever I’d brought to read, so I read books from her collection. I fell in love with sparkling regencies by Barbara Cartland, spooky gothics by Victoria Holt. (Lord of the Far Island is still a favorite!) My mom inherited the romance novel gene, and through her I read category contemporaries by Janet Dailey and Nora Roberts and Essie Summers.
I learned very early that romance was full of variations and voices and choices. Take a trip to a misty island with a mysterious man, ride through an English park, fall in love with a desert sheik in some exotic locale or a strong, silent rancher closer to home. Whatever the mood, wherever you wanted to go, a romance could take you there.
A love of books across three generations is no bad legacy. Growing up dyslexic, without a love of books and the ability to read I would never have made it through school. My reading skills allowed me to work around most of the challenges formal education presented (although nothing could save me from my inability to grasp two dimensional geometry). Reading and writing skills landed me most of my jobs and here I am today, finishing up book #8. Would it have happened without a family love of reading? I don’t know and I’m glad I don’t have to find out.
My little toddler is already reading Dr. Seuss and Goodnight Moon and the baby loves her well-chewed copy of Pat the Bunny. I’m passing it on to the next generation. I think grandma would approve. In honor of Marie Fish, a 21 book salute. Enjoy your favorites and share them with somebody you love.
Recent Comments