I did not win the jackpot in terms of parents.  It could have been a lot worse, but no Powerball.  I told my uncle that in my extended family (Malaysians had large ones, not a lot of entertainment, state run censored TV), I pretty much got assigned the equivalent of the Cleveland Browns.

I also spoke to my aunt, who helped raise me.  I mused about how life would have turned out differently if I had my wealthy uncle and aunt as parents (both grew up in poverty, but uncle is a Singapore law school salutatorian, Harvard SJD and Ph.D, wrote the Singaporean securities regulation textbook, World Bank counsel, US white shoe law firm partner).

Surprisingly, my conclusion – I would have done and seen less.

My uncle’s son asked for and received a 40K blue sports BMW and promptly crashed it.  I worked two jobs in high school to buy a white Ford Escort, which I still dream of today.  Went on scholarship for all my degrees.  My uncle and dad would drive to my cousin’s high school to check for his car to see if he was skipping.  I had almost perfect attendance, even going to school with the flu.

At the Thanksgivings my uncle hosted, my cousin and his buddies would boast about their cars, the size of their TVs, etc.  I told my high school teacher and she was appalled and disgusted.

But I will end up the poorest of the lot.  And maybe the richest.  I taught the kids that rough waters make good sailors and navigators, not smooth ones.  

The words of Cavafy’s Ithaka are a comfort –

Hope your road is a long one.

May there be many summer mornings when,

with what pleasure, what joy,

you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;

may you stop at Phoenician trading stations

to buy fine things,

mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

sensual perfume of every kind—

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

and may you visit many Egyptian cities

to learn and go on learning from their scholars