My heart is bursting with pride this week. It wasn’t anything I did. It was my son, Fin.
It’s an emotional time for us at home as he finishes primary school. We'll miss him being there. Already he has conquered so many of the things I called achievements in my secondary school years.
This week it was the school performance of The Lion King with Fin playing Mufasa.
I have a confession. When my wife encouraged me to watch the original Lion King decades ago, I laughed at her. Then one day when she was out I decided to give it a try. Forty minutes later I was crying my eyes out. My wife walked in at that exact moment and laughed at me.
I still can't watch it without crying when Mufasa returns to his son. So there is some weird irony in seeing my own son playing Mufasa.
At the performance, true to form, I cried a bit. But to my horror, my younger son shouted: "Dad, are you crying?" as other parents gave me pure cringe vibes.
"No, it's hayfever."
I was that cringe dad.
Fin studies acting every weekend and has a professional agency looking after him. We have never pushed him. It's what he wants to do and after last night I am so glad he has taken this path.
I feel like I am learning from him. As he becomes a young man I see such potential and wonder in how he tackles his challenges. He is head boy, a strong writer and already a public speaker at 11.
Fin was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes when he was two years old. It's a serious disability that takes real patience and grit to manage every day.
His diagnosis almost broke us, coming just months after his younger brother Jamie arrived two months premature. Sleep was already scarce, but you tend to hear it gets easier as your kids get older.
Not with diabetes. Blood sugar is a 24/7 management gig. There are a lot of rules, maths and complex equipment Fin has to take with him everywhere.
I was in a bad place during those early stages of diabetes, working at Thomas Cook on a high salary helping to build a bank, yet more unhappy than in any job I have had. I felt useless and broken. My colleagues didn't really get it, but I was lost.
It was all the needles, the finger prick tests and the very difficult changes to life we would all have to make.
But that little lad has faced it down at every turn. He dealt with it better than me.
I was lucky to have a couple of bosses who saw what was going on and protected me while I found my feet.
I then started to make small changes that would make us a more resilient family so Fin would have the right foundations for his life.
Last night at the play I saw the fruits of that: to see my son sing and the audience left with their mouths open. Mine being the widest gob with face most agog.
As Mufasa reminds us: "Remember who you are."
A proud father will do me.
