Pride and Joy

I recently read a friend's semi-jokingly comment on facebook about needing anti-depressants now that her son was in his senior year and thus, his last year of high school football.  She's obviously so proud of him and his accomplishments on the field, as well as just being aware of how much she'll miss watching him when the season is over.  

I think I understand her.  My oldest son Jeffrey played the part of Harold Hill in the Music Man while in High School.  I went to almost all the practices and all but one of the performances and enjoyed every minute of it.  At the end of the final performance as we all gave the cast and pit a standing ovation tears were pouring down my face (as they had before).  The relief of the whole production being over (no more crazy life for a while) was mingled with the deep pride in what my son had done and sadness that I might never experience that kind of joy again.  I was wrong.

Since that time I've had the same overwhelming feeling of pride in my children at other times for other reasons.  And it's shown me how individual they each are.   So, no - we may never again get to watch our child in the starring role of the school musical, but seeing them do well in a lesser role (Chip in Beauty and the Beast), or even finding a way to shine in the background (our daughter in Crazy for You) is every bit as wonderful.  And it doesn't take a musical to get my full attention.  At our third son Jeremy's recent high school graduation we got to see him perform with his band.  Normally he plays the trumpet, but on this

 occasion he played the keyboard.  How cool is it to see a kid you saw start music lessons grow and develop to the point he's able to jam on the keyboard with a band while they accompany the choir; the song appropriately named - "Don't Stop Believing."   Can you spell AWESOME?!!  Plenty of tears rolled down my face that night too!

It makes me wonder about the caution we're given about having too much pride.  Or is this kind of pride acceptable?  How can you not be at such times?  I recall the story of my dad turning cartwheels on the field after my brother hit a grand-slam game winning home run.  Gotta love it!   With that in mind I do intend to write about my kids occasionally - or more than that as the situation demands - and don't be surprised if the pride in them overflows from time to time.  The conclusion I've come to is that I can get away with a little (or a lot) of pride after factoring in all the times I've been annoyed to death by them!  It all evens out...right?