All parents make sacrifices for the sake of their children, but mine I think, have made more than most…
My grandfather was a medic during the Vietnam War fighting for the Democratic South against the Communist North. After the South lost the war, he was branded as a traitor, sent to prison, and his children were barred from receiving college educations.
With his future hopes and dreams stripped away, my dad was relegated to working a grueling, dismal life on the railroads, replacing broken rail ties… until he decided that a chance at freedom was worth risking it all.
In 1980 my parents left me, barely six months old, under the care of my grandparents to embark on a journey to America in a tightly packed and very small fishing boat.
Almost losing their lives through storms and starvation, they made it to the shores of California and were relocated to Texas under the protection of the Political Refugee program.
My mother worked tirelessly as a seamstress, day and night, to make enough money to pay for my dad to enter college, learn English, and earn his degree.
Today my dad is a brilliant robotics engineer spearheading projects for clients as small as hospitals to as large as the U.S. military.
My parents are my biggest heroes, without equal. They are the ones who have taught me, by example, to have a unique perspective on life… to always focus the good, and choose to enjoy its beauty.
The life I have today is only possible because of the sacrifices that they have made. Their blood, sweat, and tears paved the road for my future so that I do not have to live under a Communist regime… that I may pursue my own dreams… live my life the way I choose… and that my biggest woes can be safely followed by #firstworldproblems.
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