|Me and dad at grandpa's anniversary, ten years ago, when I thought I was funny :)|
[This post is very personal but I felt like sharing my story. No judgements please, hopefully you never have to pass thru a similar situation]
Traveling as a lifestyle sounds the perfect life, no worries, no responsabilities, no bills to pay but the truth is that there’s no such thing as perfect life. Even those millionaire people out there that can afford a castle or an island, there’s always decisions to take, some we are proud of ourselves, some were for the good, some felt the end of the world but soon we understood was for better and some? Some you just want to run away to another planet or dig an hole and hide there, so that we don’t need to face the “problem” but that’s not gonna solve anything. I guess it’s better just to choose by intuition and see what will happen. I don’t consider problems as problems, they are challenges, stuff you gotta deal to grow up, to experience to understand better the other humans.
When I found out dad had leukemia I was about to leave for 2 years to Central and South America, my flight was booked to Mexico on October. I didn’t think about my trip anymore, dad is more important then anything in the world. But when I talked with the doctor and she said he had the “best” type of leukemia and he was doing pretty good with the treatments, I’m not gonna lie, I started thinking about my trip again. Mom, dad and my brother always said I should go anyway, they were there for dad always but I was feeling guilty. I asked advice to many friends, included my friend who lost her mom because of cancer and even though all the beautiful words, they couldn’t make a decision for me. My friends were very supportive, I didn’t want to leave dad but at the same time what the hell I was doing in Portugal during Winter? I’d get depressed and not helping anything.
Two days before the flight I decided to go. Instead of 2 years, I travelled 4 months. I promise myself if dad had to go back to the hospital I immediatly would get the first flight back to Portugal. First 2 weeks was tough, I called dad every 2 days and was in touch with mom every minute. He was doing pretty good, taking care of his health and he was able to celebrate he’s birthday at home, on November. These were pretty good news, but time to time I had nightmares about dad. I kept positive always! This was the hardest decision ever but I’m glad I choose to go. Dad is doing well, taking (hardcore) medication still. He never needed to go back to the hospital, only every 3 month for a check up. We are hoping in 3 years he doesn’t need to take medication anymore. In the meanwhile I’m studying natural medication for him.
Would you like to share any hard decision? Do you regret it somehow?