Missed

Last week my daughter posted photos from the show her music students did at the school where she teaches in Pennsylvania. I was so proud of her for her accomplishments and because I know she is a phenomenal teacher. And that made me think about all my children and the pride I feel for each of them. I'm proud of their accomplishments, but also for the people they've become. They're all moral, kind, and thoughtful adults - as different from each other as night is from day - yet very much people I'm happy to claim as my own.

As I thought about this - this parental pride thing - it made me grieve for my parents. Because I had the realization that no one will ever be "proud" of me in that way again.

Oh. I know other people will feel pride if I do something wonderful because I feel that was when a sibling shines, or my husband shows some special kindness to someone else. I'm proud of my nieces and nephews for their own accomplishments. So I know we always feel pride for the people we love. And I do remember feeling proud of my own parents, when my father performed or my mother looked especially beautiful for instance. But its not the same level of pride that I feel for my children. Somehow, when it's the beings that grew within us, that were created by our love, that we agonized over through the homework years and the early romances, and worried about when they went off on their own, well it's just a whole higher level of pride. And that's something that I miss now that both my parents are gone. Because at the end of the day we all long for our parents' love and pride, don't we?