Pride without Prejudice
In the spring of 1990 when I had been married about six weeks, my husband graduated from medical school. The group of about 100 students recited the Hippocratic Oath and thus became physicians. The dean, on the stage in the hospital’s auditorium, then called the graduates by name in order to bestow upon them a heartfelt handshake and an acetate enveloped diploma — knighting them with the suffix “M.D.”, and releasing them into a world of internships, residencies, fellowships and if they stayed the course, Wednesdays for golf.
I left my seat. No one was sitting anyway. I wiggled my way between other graduates, our friends whose names were farther along in the alphabet than my new one. As my husband approached the stairs to the stage I started to shake. My mouth was open and my breathing was deep. I exhaled hard and shook my hands at my sides without stopping. Large hands lay solid on my shoulders and a soft, deep voice in my ear said “It’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK.” I turned only enough to see the robe and to know it was a friend, another graduate. When the dean called my husband’s name I stretched to see and tears streamed down my face. My body rocked. The friends’ hands squeezed and then held both my arms with a kind strength that steadied me.
Outward from my core, to my head, hands and feet I surged with energy. I personified a cliché as I burst with pride.
It is the first time I remember ever having that feeling.
To this day it remains an untarnished memory.
As a parent, I have felt that swell many times, in varying degrees over the past almost-eighteen years. Even when I know I’m witnessing, or participating in, something extraordinary, the grip of genuine, unfettered pride is startling. But that big-time pride? The kind that almost knocks you off your feet? That does not come around every other Tuesday.
I felt it at my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah where she commanded a congregation for over two hours with personality, authority and grace — and where I was told I mouthed every word she said – both Hebrew and English.
The most recent string of crazy-proud moments began when I was grocery shopping in Target. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I answered the call from my son and he said, “I got into Iowa.”
I could have used those hands on my shoulder in the bread aisle that day.
No matter what real life circumstances surround them, proud moments are unmarred by time and circumstance in my memory. The emotions retain their original shape in my heart.
And when I’m lucky – it all reaches out and steadies me.
Wow Amy, I’m feeling it with you. Which of course means that’s some powerful writing…
More than any other memory the one that stands out for me is the day my son graduated high school. The son I gave birth to at 16, raised despite all the challenges that faced me as a teenage mom, and faced him being the son of one. That day, seeing him succeed in a way that meant to that point I did my job and he would be ok, was more emotional than words can describe.
Congratulations on both of your children’s successes – a great tribute to them as individuals and also to your sacrifices, hard work and exceptional mothering!
This is just so cool. I love the vivid masterful story telling as well! You are a writer, girl. I would be beyond proud with you! How exciting!
Wow . . . what a great story, and definitely relate. When my oldest plays violin concertos, I feel like I sit there willing every note, tense, and then when it’s over and there’s applause, I have those moments, often with those tears streaming down my face.
Great storytelling. Very vivid.
Beautiful.
A smothering mothering hug of congratulations to you Amy for a job well done raising your wonderful son! You are so right, that feeling doesn’t happen everyday. This is a mother’s reward for all the things we do for the love of our babies. They grow up and display our investment of love with each achievement and happiness they acquire. Bless you Amy and your family.
I will share one of my own mother boasts if that’s okay? My daughter made it to the honour roll for her seventh grade class with a 93.6 grade average and honours in mathematics and French. HUGS Amy from one mother to another mother
Amy, I’m so happy for you. I know you can never be certain how things will turn out for your children, so to have so much success fall on them must feel wonderful.
Congratulations to your son. Cherish that moment–and thanks so much for sharing it with us so that we can also cherish it.
Congrats to your son! That is awesome! You’ll never forget that Target bread aisle!
I am in awe of your skills. So many skills, so varied and so wonderful.
Lovely and powerful — you touched a similar memory for me this afternoon. My son graduated with honors from Notre Dame two years ago. I am in tears — the same kind of pride-swelling tears — you write about here.