A life to be proud of?

There is an old saying, “Pride goeth before a fall” which I guess infers that having pride in yourself is a bad thing? I’ve been thinking about the subject of pride for a few days now and trying to get my head straight about what I am thinking and why. It is sometimes challenging to get the words and thoughts from my head onto the Blog or even to express it verbally, but I will give it a shot.

When I was growing up, I was the youngest of four siblings and the only girl. My Mum and I never really seemed to understand each other and my teenage years were tough on both of us. I remember her saying what a good mother one of my sister-in-laws was and a good housewife and a good cook, the list goes on. I can never recall her giving me any such feedback or saying she was proud of me. It was hard to hear her give such a glowing account of my sister-in-law’s achievements when I often felt I didn’t quite measure up. I think all of us want our parents at some point to be proud of us, even if as teenagers we might be too cool to admit it! 

My Mum was never really physically affectionate towards me and I can’t remember her telling me she loved me, though I guess she must have at some point? As I grew older and had my own children, even on difficult days when I seemed to spend the day yelling at them – most parents have been there – I always put them to bed and night and told them I loved them, even if I found their behaviour challenging.  I wanted to ensure that they grew up secure in the knowledge that their mother loved them. So too, I have tried to stay engaged with what they are doing with their lives and to show an interest in them. I know how hard they work, not just in their jobs, but as parents. I often tell them how proud of them I am because I know how it felt not to hear that myself as I moved through life. I do the same with my grandchildren and often tell them how proud I am of them and the things they are doing. Too often with children the only attention they get from adults is when they are deemed to be ‘naughty’ and ‘have to be brought into line’. I want to ensure that my grandchildren know that I love them and am proud to be their Nanna and to see them develop and grow.

With all of this, I have been thinking about how we gather at funerals and talk about memories of the person who has passed and often we speak with pride about their achievements in life. How often do our children tell us they are proud of us I wonder? Those of us involved in this battle with Parkinson’s and other conditions need to have guts and grit and tenacity to continue to wage war on this foe. To continue to work often in difficult jobs and park our own issues when we walk in the door to work and pick them up again on the way out. To focus on others more than we focus on ourselves, so that we don’t withdraw into self-pity or wallowing in fits of the ‘poor me’s’. It is not always easy to sustain the effort all that load requires.

For all of you reading this Blog, I hope that those that surround and support you can say the words “I’m proud of you” while you are around to hear them and don’t wait to say it as we have our last farewell from this world.

Lastly, be proud of yourself and be true to yourself as you fight the good fight against the common foe that is Parkinson’s.