When I Was Younger, in the Prime of My Life… When I was younger, in the prime of my life, I was many things—a father, a doctor, and a husband to a beautiful, radiant woman who made every day feel full of purpose. My days were long, filled with patient rounds, diagnoses, and difficult decisions. But no matter how exhausted I was, nothing compared to coming home to my children’s laughter and my wife’s gentle smile waiting at the door.
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Back then, I wore my white coat with pride, not just for the science or the status, but because it allowed me to serve. I held newborns in trembling hands and comforted grieving families. I carried the weight of others’ pain and the hope of their healing. Yet, my truest healing came from within my own home.
I remember the early mornings—rushing to the hospital before sunrise, the smell of coffee in the kitchen, a quick kiss on the forehead, and sleepy little feet padding down the hallway calling out, “Daddy, don’t go!” And in the evenings, after work, I’d sit cross-legged on the floor, listening to my kids tell me about their day, their voices dancing with curiosity and imagination.
My wife—so full of grace—held our home together with a quiet strength. She believed in me even on the days I doubted myself. We were a team, raising our children, building a life not just with goals, but with love.
Those years were golden. I didn’t know it then, not fully—but now, looking back, I realize: I wasn’t just living life. I was living meaningfully.
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