“I read and write, Grandma!”
My 95-year-old grandmother just wasn’t buying it. In our last phone call, the conversion led to shows we watch on television and what I do on the weekends. I responded with some cooking shows and The Bachelor (duh), and of course, reading and writing. I think she finally just gave up and moved on to chuckling to herself about the reality show contestants she watches and reminded me to make sure I am still eating well and getting enough sleep, as usual.
I distinctly remember a time when I was about ten where I actually assigned myself an essay to write like the kind I was learning in school (oh, the days of the five-paragraph essay) and actually wrote it. I wrote plays for my litter sister and me and made my parents watch as we fumbled with our scripts and pranced around the living room in character. I wrote pretend letters to my family members in my very first journal and I still look back at my collection of journals for childhood flashbacks. Boy do I hope Cory is recovered from when I dumped him on the playground.
I remember how when I could really only read short chapter books, I borrowed “really long” books from my parents and just pretend to read and flip through the pages to feel what it was like to read an “adult book”. I remember learning how to read in kindergarten and continuously advance to higher reading levels, always eager to see what the next books were like. And you bet that Santa always honored the requests of my Christmas list full of book titles every year.
I love reading and writing and I hope that I can continue making two of my passions into a career. I am so thankful for the opportunity to study English in school and to improve on the skills I need to succeed. I also hope to continue to read and write more; there are so many books out there and thoughts in my head, I always keep these as goals. After all, they just make me happy.
In the end, that’s all I want to be is happy. One of my coworkers reminded me this week that in life we can either choose to be happy or sad with what we do. We have to do what we love and what we know will make us happy. If we can try to accomplish that, then we’re on the right path. Reading and writing definitely set me on that path. What about you?