I began reading Harry Potter long before my daughter Erika ventured into it. She felt that these books would be too scary for her and that the time commitment would be too great considering all she already had on her To-Read-Pile.  She would however ask me about it, what part of the story was I on, so she allowed me to share my passion for HP characters which was an amazing gift; no one else I knew was reading the series at the time.  

Then one Saturday morning in October, out of the blue, she woke up and told me she was ready to be part of  the world of Hogwarts, and that was that.  In three months time  she had read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  This was amazing for various reasons; first, how in the world did she devour those books while completing all her schoolwork (forget about chores, reading beat chores every day of the week and twice on Sundays in our household!); it was amazing because I had the chance to relive my first five years at Hogwarts, and reread many passages, because my daughter loved to argue that I was wrong about this or that event.

After Erika caught up to where I was currently at, we griped together about how long it was taking for the next book to come out.  We went to all the release parties, waited till midnight to get our copies, then raced home to start reading.  We would holler at each other from our rooms, “Oh my God! What page are you on?  Hurry up! I need to talk to you about what just happened!”  Her friends would call our house to ask what chapter we were on, and again, someone was always behind and we would groan “Come on! We’re getting together on Friday, you need to catch up already!”

When Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released I cannot put into words the foul mood that enveloped our household.  Harry was being so mean, so despondent, so…. dare I say, almost evil? It took us a while to figure out that Harry was making us grouchy, and when we did, nothing really changed, we kept on being cranky until we finished reading the book.  When Dumbledore passed, my husband, looked at our daughter and me, crying our eyes out and thought something awful had happened.  It had! Dumbledore was no more, how do you go on without the wise, understanding, tender, funny, father figure you had been living with for the last seven years?  It took us a few days of grieving to try and move on, it took us a few weeks to continue reading, we couldn’t fathom more bad news, after the loss of our beloved headmaster of Hogwarts.

I am a reader, if you look at my Pinterest board  Books, Books, Books, you will find many quotes that reflect my love for the written word.  But, one of the biggest reasons I love and feel melancholy, happiness, and fulfillment is thanks to the beautiful memories I treasure, and think of when I’m having an off day.  The memories that include my precious child and my amazing dad, and one more way that our lives are intertwined.

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