If I were born again

If I were born again

 

If I were born again, I’d still want to live this life, just the way it is.

When I was a kid, my family was poor. My parents were farmers. We lived with animals—goats, dogs, chickens, rabbits. Our house wasn’t clean, and we didn’t have a proper toilet. It smelled bad and was filthy. I used to dream of taking a warm shower every day like I saw on TV.

Like most kids my age, I wanted to watch color TV, own a stereo, wear nice clothes.

But at least, unlike my parents’ generation, we didn’t go hungry. Our meals were simple, but there was always enough to fill us up.

Still, I used to wonder—why was I born into a poor family? I often imagined what it would’ve been like to be born rich.

Now I’m in my mid-50s.

If I were to be born again… would I want to be born into a wealthy family?

Actually, not really. It doesn’t matter whether I were born rich or poor.

Why? Because growing up in a poor environment had its own blessings.

When you have everything, it’s easy to grow arrogant.

But growing up with just enough, with a little bit of discomfort—it shapes you. It grounds you.

 

There’s one thing I can say for sure:

I would pick my parents to be my parents again and again in every life.

My parents were very poor. he never had plenty to eat. They spent their whole lives working hard in farmlands. Their bodies are now bent severely and wrinkled deeply, like scarecrows dressed in old clothes.

My father moves around in an electric wheelchair. My mother pushes a stroller to help herself walk.

But I don’t feel sorry for them.

Why? Because they lived their lives doing their very best. they are still in deeply love with each other.

Everyone's life looks different on the surface, but when you look closely, every family has its own burdens.

There’s no such thing as a perfect person, or a perfect family.

 

My father is now close to 90, and my mother is past 80. No one knows how much longer I’ll have them with me—only God knows.

And when God calls them home, I’ll believe it’s because He has a purpose.

Death isn’t the end. It’s a new beginning.

A permission slip to enter another world

Death isn’t something to fear. It’s just the other side of life—like two sides of a coin.

Death is always close.

And honestly, I know I’ll be heartbroken when my parents pass.

Maybe that’s why I’m writing this—maybe I’m trying to get used to the idea of death.

Are you afraid of death? Why?

For me, I try to say this to myself every day:

“Today is the best day of my life. I am happy.”

They say you only live once—but that’s not true.

You only die once. You live every single day. And every day is a new chance to become a better version of yourself.