Someone asked me, recently, what my earliest writer memory was about. I thought back and found this picture of me at about 10 years old. It got me to thinking about my beautiful Grandma.
Lately, I’ve been really missing her. My heart is torn. Holidays are a sure time to miss those who you love.
Grief is a struggle. Loss is hard.
My grandmother was always very supportive of my writing. She listened, helped me think up ideas, and gave me feedback on my unusual worlds. In fact, my Grandma never judged my outlandish tales and humored my wild science fiction and fantasy stories. But most importantly, over my formative years, she let me write and write and write for hours. I remember running to her after hours of writing to read my masterpieces to her. She would listen intently and give me some feedback.
One of my earliest memories as a writer was this picture of me, sitting on the side of my grandmother’s house, tapping on the typewriter. I loved sitting in the sun with my visor, click-clacking away. The story I was working on was probably Lashamn & Zeneco’s Greatest Adventures. The story of two Black kids in a spaceship traveling the universe, discovering new worlds, and tackling new adventures. It probably wasn’t so unique but it was very original to me. LOL…
My Grandma took this picture of me. I was proud to pose for her. She told me to “look like a writer” and I tried my best.
Before my grandmother passed, my cousin said that she shared one of my short reads. Grandma, apparently, made my cousin play the audio of me reading it over and over again. My cousin told me that Grandma was proud of the writer I’ve grown into over the years.
Yes, I truly miss my Grandma, dearly. I miss all her love and support of my weird-ish ideas. Even more so, I’m choked up to realize that it was my Grandma who captured my earliest writer memory.
I love you grandma and I REALLY miss you. I'm thankful and appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You will forever be a part of my being.