I stood in front of the grave of my father, who was the CEO of a large company. After his passing, my brother-in-law, Patrick, took over. He inherited the company and a whopping $500 million, while I was left with an old pickup truck. Patrick, flaunting his wealth, said sarcastically: “I own the company and all the real estate in my hands.”

That truck suited him very well. But for me, it was more than just a vehicle. I looked at it closely, and when I started the engine, I saw that a destination was displayed on the navigation system.

“What is this?” I thought. I started driving, both firmly and gently. Hello everyone, my name is Frank, I am 45 years old.

Now, I am standing in front of a large coffin, where my father rests. My relationship with him has always been complicated. He started a construction company from scratch, but I chose a different path.

I left home to become a teacher right after graduating from college, fulfilling my childhood dream. This decision caused many heated arguments, and for a long time we hardly spoke to each other. Despite our differences, I never hated my father.

I had my own dreams to pursue, and I couldn’t give them up to take over the family business, even though I felt a great responsibility as the eldest son. I was burdened by guilt for not living up to my father’s expectations. This guilt prevented me from visiting my parents’ house.

My mother asked my sister Sophia to update my father on my life situation. Sophia and her husband often sent expensive gifts or arranged trips on my father’s birthday or anniversary, pretending that they were from me. Every time, Sophia would encourage me by saying, “I wish mom and dad could talk to each other honestly.”

Just try to be strong. Deep down, he must be very lonely. I often thought about what Sophia said and just shook my head.

But one day, I received the sad news that my dad had cancer. After hearing the news, I quickly quit my job and returned home. I realized that what was really important was life, and the previous arguments with my dad seemed meaningless.

I decided to return to the village, teach at a local school, and take care of my sick dad. At first, my dad was surprised to see me back, but he eventually accepted it quietly. I didn’t say much either.

I just stayed by his side to take care of him, helping him whenever he needed it. He gently thanked me, and those words brought me peace. Sadly, my father’s fight against illness has come to an end.