GOD LOVES A TRIER
I'll dedicate this one to my mum and dad, who never gave up on me. It was because they never gave up that I never gave up, but carried on striving to achieve goals that were ever elusive. I had successes along the way, only to find that each success brought new goals and new demands. I ended up on an achievement treadmill, forever having to attain new goals, the old ones that had taken so much effort and sacrifice to attain being mere stepping stones to greater goals. Illusions, frankly. It was hard work. Only in light of diagnosis in my fifties can I now see how great those achievements were. I already knew how hard the struggles were. And so did my mum and dad. I tried and failed at so many things that I don't doubt that many people saw me as a failure. I have no doubt that many shared a few jokes in private at my expense. My mum and dad saw the struggles. I have fought every inch of the way, on the hardest of terrains. 'Of course you're a good Catholic,' my uncle once joked with me, 'God loves a trier.' So did my mum and dad. The only pity is that they didn't live to see the diagnosis, and appreciate just how remarkable all our achievements over the years were.
