Sometimes it isn’t the words that shape us, but the quiet ways our parents showed up. These are the moments that build a life and a legacy.
When I think about my parents and what they taught me, certain themes always come up: kindness, perseverance, loyalty, resilience. But lately, I’ve been reflecting on the lessons that taught us – me and my brothers – how to simply be human.
Because as we age, life tests us more. We experience losses: of people we love and admire, jobs, marriages, friendships, maybe even dreams. And it’s in these moments of grief or change that I find myself most grateful for what my parents modeled – not necessarily what they said, but what they showed us through their actions.
My mom has a knack for responding to challenges with humor. One of my favorite stories from Gifts of Gratitude is about how she potty trained my brothers. Frustrated with their aim, she painted a clown in the toilet bowl with nail polish to give them a target. Creative problem solving at its best.
She also taught empathy by example. She would openly express her feelings for others’ hardships, encouraging us to imagine what it felt like to be in someone else’s shoes, often leading to discussions on how to help. Her example taught me that connection begins with caring enough to look deeper.
Many people didn’t grow up with empathy modeled at home. How can we break that cycle in our families today? How can we teach our children to connect with others in meaningful ways, to think of things from another’s perspective?
“Dad would go out of his way to do something for us, even if it meant it was outside his comfort zone.”
Whether it was buying cassette tapes of bands he didn’t know, creating his own dad-daughter outings to sporting events, or sprinting with me through the streets of Paris to buy tampons before the shop closed (I know he was mortified!), he showed love through his quiet sacrifices.
“His face would be the one I’d look for on the sidelines when I was playing.”
He didn’t need to say a word. Just seeing him there court side made me feel relieved, supported and loved. When I reflect back on these acts of presence that at the time went unnamed, today they flood me with warmth and gratitude and I realize them for what they were, what they provided me with.
Who showed up for you in quiet, unwavering ways?
What are some of the small or silent ways your parents or a parental figure showed love or support?
Don’t wait to share your gratitude. Send that message, write that note, or call them today.
And if you are willing to share, I’d love to hear from you one thing you’re grateful to your parents for giving you.
If this reflection resonates with you, my book Gifts of Gratitude is filled with stories, prompts, and gentle guidance to help you share the words that matter most, before it’s too late. Grab a copy today and start your own journey of remembrance and deeper connection with those you love.