6d • The Hearth
Reading
We all remember my mother the same way, lying on the sofa, reading, a cigarette in her hand. My high school classmates loved that about her. She was so unlike their mothers and the other mothers they knew.
She was always reading. My family was always reading. A typical family evening back then would be each of us sitting in the living room, all of us reading, heads down, away on solitary journeys to who knows where, to other people, times, and places.
It wasn't that my mother was not interested in a social life or what people did for a living or any of that. It was more that she was not interested in the trappings of those things. Her lack of convention was not at all flamboyant. If you saw her, she only stood out for her lack of lady-like clothes and makeup.
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