WHY I WRITE
I never set out to be a writer. I never dreamed of it. Then, I had a story to tell. I guess we all do, but this story was one with powerful details that no one knew, not even my family. It was about a friendship that I formed with an elderly man who became like a grandfather to me at a time in my life when I had no grandfather. My soul yearned for that patient wisdom that only comes from age, and I found it in an old, retired well driller from Carnegie, Georgia. Through the art of knife making, Mr. Andrews taught me about life. He showed me the important lessons that I didn’t even know I was looking for. I believe nothing happens by chance, and I thank God for giving me this first story… Famous Catfish Stew. God created me as a writer, and He slowly pulled it out of me. Now, I pray that I use this gift of writing to glorify God. A writer is not what I am; it is who I am.
I try to live my life now giving thanks to the men and women who have become “giants” in my life, those who live by example, lift me up, and motivate me to be a better person. Some are living; some are not. Some I have met; some I have not. Some are old; some are not.
This moment of realization happened when I was in my 20s. Three years after graduating from vet school and working back home at the clinic that molded me, one of my mentors, Dr. Odom, asked me a powerful question on my last day of work before moving away.
“You know why you are tall?”
The question came as a surprise. I looked up from my spay surgery at Dr. Odom who had just walked into the operating room.
I tried to find any signs of joking but instead saw a rather serious expression on Dr. Odom’s face.
“I mean, I have some height in my family,” I responded. “My grandfather was over six feet and my….”
“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “I’m not talking about physically.”
Thinking for a moment, I responded, “I guess I’m not sure what you are talking about.”
“You ever wonder how you got here today, standing where you are now, doing surgery as a licensed veterinarian? Have you ever stopped to wonder?” he asked in an atypically matter-of-fact tone.
“Truthfully, not really,” I responded with the naivety of youth.
He gazed around the room and quietly said, “You didn’t do this alone. All it takes is for you to look down, and you will realize that others are lifting you up.”
I stood in silence, reflecting on all the people who had supported me in my life.
Dr. Odom cleared his throat and pointed a finger at me. “The reason you’re tall…” he paused to clear his throat again, “is because you stand on the shoulders of giants.”
I swallowed hard. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I was staring at one of my "giants."
