I arrived at my son’s house five minutes before New Year’s Eve. Before I even knocked, I heard him toasting: “2025 is going to be perfect! Without the old man in our lives!” I sat down on the sidewalk and waited alone for the fireworks, but at 12:10 a.m., he exploded when he saw what I’d done… – Reading Times

My father was a humble laborer who worked on land that did not even belong to him. My mother washed clothes for wealthy families just to keep food on our table every night.

I remember sleeping on a thin mat on the floor and dreaming of the day I would finally have a real bed of my own. When I turned fifteen, I boarded a Greyhound bus and headed toward the city to try my luck at a better life.

I arrived at the terminal with a small canvas bag and a hunger for success that was as big as the world itself. I landed a job as an assistant electrician in 1970 and learned the trade the hard way through sweat and many falls.

I never gave up because I had a dream of owning a house and giving my future children everything I never had. I worked from Monday to Sunday and took extra jobs at wealthy estates on the weekends to save every penny.