Oh my GAWD.
I obviously did not suffer from a lack of self confidence back when I was 20, unlike today, when I'm convinced that there are probably five or six people in the world who are better human beings and more talented writers than I am.
I found this last night while going through some old papers in the Family Bible looking for some more information on James Callison. I did find he was born in 1830 in County Armagh, Ireland, and his family name was James McCallison. Like many immigrants his name got shortened somehow. Who knows? It says he arrived in America in 1845. We Callisons have always been able to recognize when it's time to hit the road, because I think I read the Irish Potato Famine started about that time and got worse until 1848? I'm too lazy to look it up..oh, OKAY.
But anyway back to my incredible awesome wonderfulness. I was inducted into Phi Beta Kappa and had to write some little blurb for the program. So, presented for your wincing squirming pleasure, is my epistle:
I was born in Richmond, Virgina and grew up in Florida, North Carolina and Virginia. When I was ten, my family moved to South Carolina. I have thoroughly enjoyed my three years at USC. (ed. note: I graduated early)
Majoring in journalism has given me the opportunity to file stories for a newspaper, radio and TV station, and contribute to a book. (Ed. note: I have no IDEA what book I am talking about here). I have also derived great benefit from my political courses and experience as a legislative intern.
I suppose it is customary to thank a teacher for academic encouragement. (Ed. note: Really! Ya think?) However, I must give all credit to my parents, Ruth and Grady Callison. They gave me the most priceless gifts in the world-love, encouragement, and self confidence. (Ed. note: Really? Ya think?)
It is impossible to put into words what they mean to me. Let me just say that two extraordinary people turned a very ordinary girl (Ed. note: Really? Ya think? Yeah) into a Phi Beta Kappa.
Okay. (cringe) Yowsa! I merely want to state for the record that I am adopted. And I merely want to state for the record that I was gosh golly gee whiz-bang lucky.
And I still feel that way. Happy Mother's Day Mom.
Wish you even knew it WAS Mother's Day as you sit in your wheelchair in whatever world the demon called Alzheimer's has taken you to.
(And yes, even though I'm a very ordinary Phi Beta Kappa, I'm ending that sentence improperly. My copyediting professor would not be pleased).











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