Showing posts with label proud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label proud. Show all posts

Pride ( In The Name Of Love )

Welcome to this weeks Blog This! challenge. On todays menu:
Tell us about a proud moment in life - of you, of someone else, when you made someone proud. Maybe you want to focus on an aspect of your life or someone you know that exudes pride?

Ok, yes, first of all - i totally stole the name of a U2 song for my post title. Second of all, the first person tha comes to mind when i think of the word " pride ", of who I am proud of, of who is proud of me....is my Dad.

Thats him - my dad. We've always been close, my dad and i, the kind of relationship where we can finish each others sentences, have inside jokes and generally just " get " each other. But in the past 8-ish years, since finishing high school and growing and maturing into adulthood, i've realised not only how much i love him but how proud i am of him as a person.

He's always done whats best for our family, regardless of whether or not it was good for him; he worked two jobs for years, existing on only a few hours sleep a night, to provide for us; when he could afford to cut back to only one job, the job he took on was physical labour. He was told by his doctor that this work would aggravate his back condition, to the point of paralysis if he let it get too far - but he continued to work regardless. For 10 years in fact, until he was told it was either a spinal fusion and rehab and cutting back on duties - or it was a wheelchair. He chose to take the surgery option and once he was back on his feet, he was back to work, doing the same job as before, because thats what he needed to do for his family. This persistance has paid off for him in the last two years - he was given a promotion which meant a better paid job with less manual work. 

His dedication to us knows no bounds. He came to most of our sporting games ( even though he admits to never liking netball ); he would let you practise your speech with him as your audience, so you werent so nervous when you had to give it in class; he listens, even now, to everybody's issues and doesnt expect anything in return but that you consider his advice; I'd never in my life seen him pick up a pen and paper to write a letter, but he did just that, and wrote me when i was living overseas; he's an amazing Poppy to his three grandkids, even though he tells them " stories " about how he used to be a doctor/cowboy/hatmaker ( and we kids know none of it is true ).

Basically, I'm proud of him because of the kind of man he is. He loves with his whole heart, which means he doesnt forgive easily when he's hurt. If you hurt him too much ( though he wont admit that " hurt " is the right word ) he'll cross you off his Christmas card list forever. Yes that may be stubborn - but it also means he doesnt suffer fools easily, and that he knows the key to life is to be happy. If someone doesnt make you happy, you dont bother with them anymore, and you take that love you had and focus it on the people who mean most to you. He does everything that he does for his family, and we love him for it. Though i know he's taught me many a life lesson and showed me, through example, how to be a good parent, he claims it was us, his children, that taught him to be a good father.

Which ever way it happened, no matter where he picked up his skills, he is a good father and a good man. And thats enough for me.

Progress, episode #1

So, guess what i did today ? I ran on the treadmill at the gym. RAN. Yes, me - i ran. The last time i've ran anywhere for anything was so i didnt miss the last train back to New Jersey after a John Butler Trio concert in New York City. In heels mind you, but i digress.

I have steadily been improving my fitness over the past 8 weeks or so to the point where i was getting kind of bored with a fast walk on the treadmill. Admittedly, i like the bike and the rower more ( i'm even getting callouses on my hands from the handles on the rowing machine... yay! ) but i thought maybe i could liven up the treadmill section of the workout. Why not jog a bit?

Bare in mind that i had the " why not jog a bit ? " thought about two weeks ago, but couldnt bring myself to do it until today. After having had the initial thought the rest of my self-conversation went like this :
Me#1: " You cant jog - you arent fit enough for that. What if you keel over and die, wearing tracksuits pants and a Cookie Monster t-shirt ? "
Me #2: " I dont think i'll keel over, but maybe i'm not fit enough yet".
Me #1: " Of course you arent fit enough yet. Plus, you'll look ridiculous running. Everyone else at the gym is giong to look at you and all you're wobbly bits jiggling around as you jog. "
Me#2 : " I dont have wobbly bits! Do I ? "
Me#1 : " I hate to tell you sister but... mm hmm. For the love of God, dont do it! "

So that was two weeks ago. I listened to Me #1 then but today, well, Me #2 said " Screw it! There arent many other people here anyway so just push yourself a bit and see what you can do! ". So i sucked it up, and thats what i did. I only did it in intervals - one minute jogging with two minutes walking in between - and only for 10 minutes, but the point is i did it. And, even better, i'll do it again.

Congratulations me! As one of my teenaged friends would say - i took a cup of cement and hardened the fuck up!

And just like that, i'm back on the horse

Actually, i'm back on the bike. The stationary bike at the gym that is.

Thats right, i kept the promise to myself and i went back to the gym this afternoon. I had an excuse not to go - my gym buddy has a bad back and it was acting up, so i could have said " Screw it, i'm not going either ", but i didnt - i came home, ate me a snack, got changed and went to the gym. I was actually really proud of myself for sticking it out. As we are all aware by now, i'm noty exactly a fan of being the centre of attention or being scrutinised, so the minute i walked in the door and found myself to be only the fourth woman there surrounded by big, burly, blokes i kind of got a little nervous. Not that i really had right to be i suppose, its just a little intimidating to be a gym newbie surrounded by men you know are probably there every day - or, on the other hand, are there partly so they can check out the chicks. I hate to generalise, but you know its based in truth. So i just found myself a little anxious plonking down on a machine next to a guy who could probably quite easily pick me up with one arm ( although, that thought is also kind of sexy...muscles are good ), not because i thought he was going to try and break me, just because i didnt want him to look at me and think i was puny or something. Which i suppose, in comparison, i am, but thats not the point.

The point is - i'm trying. I'm being pro-active. I'm taking my health - both physical, emotional and mental - into my own hands. I pushed myself to stay, and work, and do what i could without being put off by everyone else. I'm making an effort to be outside of my house in an area where there are other people, 99% of whom i do not know. Perhaps i will ask one of the burly hot guys to help me put those big heavy weights on one of the machines - that'll at least give one of us an opening to a conversation. But not just yet, that will come in time.

Let me work on my glutes and my triceps, and the rest will follow....

Hero Worship

My father is a good man. Period. That sentence in itself could be its own blog post, but i suppose i should elaborate. I received a bunch of flowers at work today and do you know who they were from ? My father. What did the note say ? Simply " Just a reminder of how proud i am of my girls ".Not only did he send a bunch of flowers with this note to me, but also to my mother, sister, sister-in-law and he had a posey to give to his granddaughter too.
Why you ask ? Just because.We didnt all have a mass birthday and it wasnt some kind of Female Type Relation Appreciation Day - he sent us those flowers because thats the kind of man he is. A good man. Its not that giving people flowers that makes him a good man - its that he cared enough, that he thinks enough of us to show that we are appreciated. Because he knows that we would all appreciate the gesture.
He is a good man because as much as he is stubborn and argumentative and smart-alecky ( he is a Taurus after all - its in his nature ) he sucks it up and apologises when he is wrong ( which, admittedly, isnt often ). He is honest and heartfelt when he needs to be - and he knows when those times are. When he speaks from the heart you know that they arent just token words - he chooses his words and his timing very carefully, he doesnt just bandy about throwaway " I love you "s.
He is a good man because he is a good father- and he attributes that to his children. It his belief that he is not a good father because of his own skills, but rather because we kids taught him to be. That the fact he has raised three , dare i say it, well-adjusted, " good " children is somehow a shared effort on our part. He is modest enough ( even though he probably shouldnt be ) to believe that sometimes, just sometimes, we taught him things too.
He is a good man because he has helped me become the good person that i am. No, he's not a so-called " hippie " like me - he doesnt believe in being overtly charitable, that humans everywhere are basically good, or that one day we could possibly change the world - but he has taught me patience; humility;strength of character and strength of will. He has raised me to be a woman of substance, and to know that i dont have to please everyone. He would as proud of me if i chose to be a taxi driver as if i were elected Prime Minister of Australia ( actually, he'd probably bag me out about that, but he'd be proud ).
Lastly, he is a good man - just because. Not always because of things he does, but the things he doesnt do. Not because he says all the right things, but sometimes because he doesnt say the wrong things. But mostly because he loves me, not because he has to, but because of who i am, and sometimes, in spite of who i am.
What more could a girl ask for ?