Working abroad is not for me.

Going back to my earlier post, I just got a bit irked when my mom and I was talking earlier after I finished with my neurologist check-up. Once again our discussion had somehow drifted into nursing discussions, our relatives and the good pay it gets abroad. I have nothing against nurses and caregivers, in fact I commend their dedication in their practices. However it is not meant for me. First of all, it is a strenuous job which will not help ease my cluster headaches. Second, I can’t really live in a far away place working for example in Long Island nursing homes and spend the holidays or even a great part of the year away from my family.

I do get annoyed and have discussions with my parents and siblings but one thing I can not stand would be living away from them. I love them a lot though I may not say or express it often, and having them round me brings me comfort and a familiar happiness that I can’t really explain for people to understand. I guess what I’m trying to say is that no matter how much money I can earn abroad, I’d still choose a lower paying job here in the country. I grew up spending all my accomplishments and my disappointments with my family, and I can’t picture myself away from them even if we have our own differences.

I understand the rationale behind working for the future and leaving the people you love so you can all have a better and brighter future, but for me I’d rather stay here and eat the simple meals we are able to buy as long as we eat it together. Its not really the food before you that makes eating special. Its those people you eat with.

IÂ remember one time, I was in someones house. Though the food was overflowing, the family was not complete, the parents were busy working and were away at meetings. The siblings were out, and only the help were around. Eating there was like eating in solitude. The table was silent and the food were left unconsumed. I felt empty.

On the other hand, when I visited a fisherman’s house, it was strikingly different. The family was all there and we were seated on the floor sharing the rice that was bought with credit at the sari-sari store, sharing the few fish they were able to keep from the week’s catch. The merry chitchat was there, and laughter was abundant. Though the food was scarce, the family was not. I felt full and satisfied.

Its not a generalization nor a stereotype. It happens to families even if we don’t want to admit it at times. When we start looking at how we would be tomorrow and planning all the time, we end up living each day not as today. Money can never replace memories of childhood. Even though one sends gifts each holiday and birthday to their kids, it will never be the same like spending that day with them. A game boy, a cell phone, a playstation can be discarded, replaced and forgotten. Memories of laughter, of tears and of love stay ingrained in our minds and hearts as long we live.

I’d rather hear my child’s biography remembering a walk or a picnic we had in Luneta, than have him remember a gaming console I sent him for his birthday.