Story of My Life
It was Christmas Eve. I’d just gotten home from work. People find it strange that I’m working even on holidays. They are always asking the same questions: “Don’t you want to spend time with your family?”; “Don’t you have anything to do other than work?” It seems as if they don’t understand what I’m striving to accomplish.
I sat down on the sofa and opened my emails. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for two: a letter from my superior and a letter from my dad. I stopped for a moment and then opened the letter from my superior. At first I didn’t think anything of it, as most of the time he sends general stuff that doesn’t have anything to do with me. However, as soon as I started reading it, I knew this was something else. It was a job offer, a promotion of some kind in South America. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been wanting to make an impact for so long, and I finally have a chance to do so as a journalist.
I felt like my prayers finally found an ear. I’ve given up everything just to open the eyes of the people and help them see what our world has come to.
I was ready to pack my things, then I remembered there was still a letter to read. As I mentioned earlier, I gave up many things for my career, and one of the many was my family. It’s not that I don’t love them, I do. I just simply had my eyes on nothing but my goal. I sacrificed everything that could have served as a distraction: I moved quite far away from home; even so I managed to visit them 4 or 5 times a year, which wouldn’t be possible with this new job opportunity.
In short, my dad told me about his illness and the uncertainty surrounding it.He wanted me to spend more time with him as long as I could.
After I read it, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a while: doubt. Doubting whether it really was the best decision for me just to leave for several years, accomplishing my dream, but risking never to see my father again.
I was thinking about it the whole night and couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk, hoping to get an answer from the fresh air.