When I think about my dad, the picture that pops into my head is one of him reading a book on an armchair with a cat in his lap. I think it’s his most natural state and certainly the primary image I have of him from my childhood.
My dad reads a lot, as does the rest of the Zureick family. At family gatherings, everyone brings their own reading materials, and before or after dinner, it’s totally acceptable to withdraw from the conversation and read. I like this about my family, our intergenerational commitment to the written word.
When I was a young, my dad would take my grandmother, my sister, and me to the library every week. Now that I’m embarking on a writing career, I’m especially thankful to my dad for his dedication to this activity. I may have waited until my thirties to become a writer, but I’ve been a reader my whole life.