A man works abroad. He did not go home for 20 years. Finally, he was given a chance to go on vacation. So he went. When he got home, his wife died after a week. Hashtag true story.

I wish that was just some Nicholas Sparks novel. But no, this is real life. It happened to my friend. He just got back from that trip you could hardly call a vacation. I feel so heartbroken for him. I said if it was me, I would probably never come back here. But then again, if he does not come back, nothing is familiar to him in their home, no memories, except for the death of his wife…and I do not think that is a memory he would love to cherish and go back to each time.

I think of his family, how unfamiliar they are to each other. Of course eventually, families go separate ways to live their own separate lives but not seeing each other for 20 years? That is something unimaginable for me. I shudder at the thought.

That is the reality for a lot of Filipinos though that I wish would stop. There’s nothing wrong in working overseas. What is wrong is not having a choice. I do not think anybody would be willing to leave their families, their life partners for the sake of a job. However, there are mouths to feed, school fees to pay. So another Juan has to leave. He will work and work until he’s old.


Author: ojgetsanotherblog

A hormonal, overly emotional know-it-all.

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