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Spent the afternoon in good company and eating delicious homemade curry and macarones. My friend and I got to talking about our families, which brought me to tears. It's amazing how much our parents struggle for us no matter what they went through.

When I came home, I asked my mom about my dad's past. This is what she told me: "When your daddy was young, he was very poor. His dad was killed when he was very young. He had 7 siblings. His parents gave him away because they couldn't afford to take care of him. He lived with different aunts and uncles from month to month. He spent half his time in Vietnam living in a Buddhist monastery. One of the nuns, who was his aunt, stored up enough money for him so he could escape the Vietnam war.

He will never stray from Buddhism, no matter how hard you try Antoinette, because of this".

That Buddhist Societies class I took my freshman year never really gave me any deep understanding as to why my parents were raised Buddhist, but in the brief 10 minutes I spent with my mom, I understand now.

My eyes tear up whenever I think about the struggles my parents went through to become the people they are today. I'm always grateful.

Dad and I in Banff, Canada (2008)