i wanna go home

this weekend, I can't go home.
Next weekend, I can't go home.
Next next weekend, too. Next next next weekend, too.
Crying, crying, and crying . . . .
I have to wait, until the Tomb Sweeping Day is coming.
But I promise I will be more brave.
And, two days ago, March 8, the birthday of Daddy,
I had promised Dad that I will stand treat when I go home.
So I would use those weekends to do the part-time job.
Keep learning, listening, reading, smiling, working, and so on.
I would do my best to live my colorful life.
It's for me, for my family, for my wishes, for my future.
I love you, my family.
(Power, my husband, my lovely dog, I miss you so much, too.)