The very first thing that came to my mind was Beaufort, South Carolina, summer of 1974. I was 22 that year, a single mom with two little kids and a full ride to the University of South Carolina. My major was psychology. I had straight A's. My books, tuition and childcare paid for.
But, when I was heading to class, my friends were heading to the beach. I could have easily lived on the beach, salty wind blowing through my hair.
But, I was plugging along studying—for a while. Until a thought presented itself in my mind's eye. I saw myself down the road, after years of not going to the beach, I finally had my diploma in hand—only to get hit by a Mack truck and die.
I made the decision it was not worth the sacrifice. I quit school and headed to the beach...
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