Far from Home

My name is Hoàng, and three months ago, I left my home in Vietnam for America, believing I was chasing a better future for my family. Back in Vietnam, I was an architect. Designing homes and buildings had been my passion, a career I had worked hard to build. But passion didn’t pay the bills, and in the small town where we lived, opportunities were few and far between.

My wife, Bích, and I struggled to make ends meet. We had two beautiful daughters—Linh, who was ten and full of curiosity, and Khánh, just two years old, with a laugh that could light up the darkest days. I wanted to give them everything: a good education, a secure life, a future where they could dream without limits. But every month was a battle to pay for school fees, groceries, and medical bills.

When the chance came to work in America, I didn’t think twice. I told myself it was the right thing to do, that I could send money back and change our lives. Bích supported me, though I saw the worry in her eyes. Linh tried to be brave, but her tears at the airport broke my heart. Khánh was too young to understand, only clinging to my neck as I kissed her goodbye.

Reality hit hard when I arrived. My degree and experience as an architect meant little here. Without the proper certifications and connections, I couldn’t continue my profession. I had to take any job I could find: working at a nail salon, waiting tables at a crowded restaurant, and more recently, making bubble tea at a small shop.

The work was exhausting, and the pay was barely enough to cover my expenses. After sending money home, there was little left for myself. I shared a cramped room above the bubble tea shop, where the noise of the city never stopped. My hands, once used to drawing blueprints and measuring walls, now bore callouses from scrubbing floors and lifting heavy trays.

Each night, I would call Bích and the girls. Linh would tell me about her school projects, always trying to sound cheerful, though I could see the sadness in her eyes. Little Khánh would babble into the camera, calling out, “Daddy, when are you coming home?” Bích tried to be strong, encouraging me to keep going, but I could sense her exhaustion.

One day, during a call, Bích mentioned an opportunity back home:

"Honey, there’s a new project in town, and they’re looking for someone with your skills. The pay isn’t great, but it’s steady. Maybe… maybe it’s time to come back? Linh and Khánh miss you so much."

Her words stayed with me. I wanted to go back more than anything. I missed my family—their laughter, their warmth, their presence. But I also knew that the job back home wouldn’t provide enough for the future I envisioned for them. Linh deserved to go to the best schools. Khánh should grow up without the struggles that had shaped my life.

That night, I sat in my room, staring at the family photo I kept in my wallet. In the picture, Bích was smiling gently, Linh stood tall with a book in her hands, and Khánh clung to her mother, her wide eyes full of wonder. I wrote a letter to Bích, trying to explain my thoughts:

"Bích,

I miss you and the girls more than words can say. Every day, I wonder if I made the right choice by coming here. I’ve heard about the job back home, and I want to return so badly. But I’m afraid that if I come back now, I won’t be able to give Linh and Khánh the life they deserve.

Please, give me a little more time. I’ll keep working, no matter how hard it is. I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can, with enough to make life easier for us. I love you and our daughters with all my heart."

Even as I wrote those words, doubt gnawed at me. Was I being selfish, staying away from them in pursuit of a dream that might never come true? Or was I doing the right thing by sacrificing my presence for their future?

These questions keep me awake many nights. But through it all, the thought of my family gives me strength. Their love is the beacon guiding me through the darkest times. Whether I stay here or return, I will find a way to rebuild our lives together.

This is my journey. It’s not the path I imagined, but it’s the one I’m walking for the people I love most.