The Power of Words

Swift delves into the story of her and her pop-pop, and how he influenced her writing journey

Kaitlin+Swift+poses+at+seven+years+old+next+to+her+Pop-Pop%2C+Albert+Stark

Christine Swift

Kaitlin Swift poses at seven years old next to her Pop-Pop, Albert Stark

   Believe it or not, the TV guide led me to writing.

   I know, that sounds like a paradox. How could technology be my gateway into writing? But, as I, two years old, sat with my Pop-Pop in the living room in my old house in Northeast Philly, I just really wanted to see what time my favorite tv show, The Wonder Pets, would play on our Samsung TV. So, on that fateful morning, I stood up from where I was sitting in my favorite pink “Silly Monkey” t-shirt and embroidered jeans, waddled up to the television , and read off of the screen.

   “Wonder Pets is on at 9:00 am.”

      My Pop-Pop was definitely surprised, but overjoyed that his granddaughter was a self-taught reader! I can only imagine how much pride he had when he told my mom after she got home from work, so grateful that he was there for the moment that would forever change my life.

      After learning how to read, writing was naturally my next step. I loved storytelling, and just letting my imagination run free and writing whatever I wanted. My pop-pop would encourage me to keep at it, and my goofy stories about princesses, fairies, and all sorts of animals soon turned to picture books, coauthored by the both of us. He used his artistic skill acquired from many years of painting signs and drawing cartoons to make my characters come to life, and I would write the stories. We took great pride in our silly stories, such as ,“The Cat Who Sang Opera,” and it made us grow closer than ever. Looking back, it is definitely one of my favorite memories I had with him. He was one of my greatest supporters, and I wish that I better appreciated my time with him while I still had it.

      He died on May 28th, 2014.

      I still remember my grandmom coming home after hearing the news, internalizing more pain than my 7 year old self could even comprehend. She was broken into a million pieces, and as I embraced her on the cracked pavement of our driveway, I struggled to find the words to comfort her. I felt helpless, like there was no way I could help her through this. It was a loss beyond words.

In the years after his death, I continued to improve my storytelling, evolving from writing children’s books to short stories. I mostly wrote fiction, and one of my favorite things I could do with my writing is bring characters to life. Having the power to flesh out characters with their own personalities, ways of speech, and mannerisms was a mind blowing experience. Who knew you could do so much with just a paper and a pencil?

      I would write stories for my grandmom every Christmas, and through these, I was able to revive Pop-Pop and capture his spirit. I wrote about the way he could light up a room with his belly laugh, his extreme kindness to everyone around him, even if they weren’t kind in return, and most importantly, how much he cared for his family. It was something that helped me get to know him in a way I was never able to, and, in turn, it helped me cope with losing someone so important to me.

      These stories filled my grandmom with joy year after year and never failed to make her weep from happiness. She would always hold me in her fragile arms after reading them, and thank me for giving her another moment with someone she so deeply missed. I was finally able to stop feeling helpless, and found a way to help her cope with the loss of someone so wonderful. 

      And it was all through the power of words.