At the time, I didn’t understand that. All I saw was her relentless effort and how hard she worked to keep us afloat. Meanwhile, I was completely focused on my studies and climbing my own ladder of success.
Honestly, I was doing well and embraced every opportunity that came my way out of ambition and curiosity. Graduate school, internships, and eventually a career others would admire—that became my story. On the day I graduated, as everyone around me applauded, I searched through the crowd looking for her. I spotted her sitting far in the back row, clapping quietly. The pride on her face made it seem as though the entire celebration belonged to her, not me.
For illustrative purpose only
After I hugged her, I felt overwhelmed with pride for everything I had achieved. But in a moment of pure arrogance, I said, “See, I’ve made it; I have climbed up the ladder. You chose the easier route and here you are, nobody.”
She didn’t react with anger. Instead, she simply smiled at me and said, “I’m proud of you,” before walking away. For a moment, everything felt fine. After all, I had my own world to build. If she could manage hers, that was enough. I assumed that was just how life worked once you grew older.
A few months passed, and I found myself visiting her town while attending a conference. I told myself I wanted to see her, but deep down I needed reassurance that everything was okay. However, the moment I got close to her house, I sensed something was wrong. It felt empty, lifeless, stripped of all the warmth it once had.
