Without wishing to sound like the biggest twonk, I am the luckiest person in the world.
And, as it turns out, not only am I the luckiest person in the world where I stand in life here and now, but I have been the luckiest person in the world for approximately 32 years, 11 months and 340 days (oh dear, I’m nearly 33!) and just simply haven’t realised it.
Technically you could argue that my brother is the luckiest person in the world as he has the great pleasure of sharing his birthday with me (what a marvellous birthday gift a screaming new baby is for a four year old!). But no, that title falls to me.
Lucky you say?! What on earth do you mean?! Well people…this is what I mean:
I’ve been through some trials in my life. Nothing heartachingly devastating, thankfully enough, but stuff like almost dying at the age of 14 from a burst appendix is enough to make anyone thankful that they are still alive and well, no!?
And at every twist and turn, there they have been. The parentals.
I must have been a nightmare growing up. I rarely smiled on family photos because I was usually in a huff about something or other. I was massively competitive with my older brother to the point of distraction. I threw big, huge strops. I would go and hide under the huge clothing rails in Tesco and have everyone searching the store for a “missing” child. It’s a wonder I wasn’t left somewhere with a note warning whomever found me to just leave me there!
But still, there they have always been. By my side and there for me. Always.
I chose a different path to what they might have expected or wanted for me…a different school to my brother which meant a mammoth trek to and from school each day. University, which cost them an absolute fortune and no doubt gave them endless worry and heartache as, for the first six months at least, I cried down the phone nearly every single day. Lichfield, which meant me moving away and 4 hour round trips every time the want to see me.
Plenty stress from the daughter.
And now, now that we have two children here they are again. Always there. Always helping, wherever and however they can. Providing advice and putting up with my strops even now (I don’t think I’ll ever mellow into a low maintenance type). And their love for our children…oh how lucky I am indeed!
And it’s not just my own parents that make me the luckiest person in the world…it’s my inlaws too.
I am the luckiest person in the world as I have the best in-laws too. They are truly lovely, and help us out so much despite living so far away. I don’t think I could ever repay them for the love, help and support they have shown me over the years.
So, if your parents are with you still and you are reading this as the mother or father to your own wee ones…no matter their age, their location, their state of mind, their contribution…be thankful.
Be thankful for the effort that went into raising you, even if there were horrible times. Be thankful for the sacrifices that were made to give you the scalextric or the Barbie DreamHouse Campervan that has been lovingly hoarded in the loft for an eternity in case you one day have a daughter that will want to play with it (thanks Dad!). Be thankful for the hours spent cleaning up sick, making your meals and stroking your hair as you went through yet another crisis because Peter Gronough didn’t even know who you were (cringe!).
And be thankful that, without even knowing it, they set you up with the tools to deal with the uncertainty, guilt and general mess that comes with being a parent yourself. Because you might not feel it, but you are doing great.
You are indeed the luckiest person in the world.
Except for me 😉
Speak soon, x