An Ode to Mother Nerd

If you’ve read my very first blog piece on here—“Nice to Meet Q”—you might recall that writing has been a favorite pastime for me since I was a little girl. It’ll probably be no surprise to learn that reading, too, is much the same. Books and words and stories have been staples since the beginning.

And I’m writing about it today because it’s Mother’s Day this coming Sunday, and who else do I have to thank for my love of literature other than Mother Nerd herself?

My mother, also affectionately known as Merm (see below for the meme format that was popular when my siblings and I were in high school, which earned her that nickname), was my original Book Supplier and still gives me solid recommendations. The latest of which are Pandora’s Lab: Seven Stories of Science Gone Wrong (Offit) and Andy Warhol was a Hoarder: Inside the Minds of History’s Great Personalities (Kalb), in case you were wondering.

If you wanted to read like my mother, these are the staples: a really good historical mystery and a cappuccino. Simple, really, yet delightful. And if your name is Inspector Rutledge of the Scotland Yard, she’d be happy to solve more cases with you. 

I think I’ve mentioned my “Classics Project” previously, but it’s an on-going endeavor I’m chipping away at as I slowly but surely work my way through a list of Classic Literature titles and review them. I’ve also been journaling through this process, and Merm has gotten multiple mentions, for a handful of reasons, and I thought, as part of my ode to her today, I’d share an excerpt from that journaling. 

These thoughts were prompted by some writing I was doing about a book I adore by an author who’s a long-standing favorite (The Wright Brothers by David McCullough; so good). This is what I had to say:

I have my mother to thank for getting me into this book. Really, for getting McCullough on my radar in the first place.

No, no, no—for my steadfast pastime and adoration of reading. It is Mother Nerd, after all, in those early memories of library visits. She’s in just about all the library memories up until I left for college. It was like you had to be seriously grounded for her to not say yes to taking you when you asked. And, if I had something on hold, she’d swing by and grab it when she was in town. I never heard her ask me to stop putting books on hold or complaining about running this perpetual errand.

Then, when I was in high school, she was even more a part of the library because she started working there. Just when you think the library couldn’t be more of a kind, safe place your mother pops up behind the front desk.

For a lot of my senior year, it was me and mom doing things together. The divorce was finalized. We’d moved into town. My sister was off at Syracuse, and my brother was off to who knows where.

There were many times I’d be at the library until it closed because I’d walk home with mom (when the weather was nice) or drive her (when the weather wasn’t). I recall there being instances where I’d try to slip in undetected so I could pop up there myself—Surprise! It’s your kid!—at the front desk. We were never not delighted to see each other there.

For those of us who love books, we all have that someone in our lives who got us hooked. Who read to us or encouraged our little voices to sound out letters or whatever it might be. I’m so grateful for my someone and the ways we continue to connect over literature in my adulthood. 

How good it is to have been taught, from a young age, that sometimes you just need to sit down with a warm, comforting beverage and get a little lost in a story. So, Merm, if you’re reading this, please know I’m so grateful for that foundational lesson from you. Can’t wait for the next chance we get to chat about books.♡