Success Came Too Late

I built a one hundred million dollar company and destroyed everything that actually mattered. I'm seventy-six

now and I'd trade every penny to go back. My daughter was seven when she made

me a drawing. I told her to wait while I finished a call. She walked away

after thirty seconds. Years later I found it. She'd written, "I love you Daddy

even though you're always busy." By the time I found that drawing, it was too late

to fix anything. My wife divorced me after twenty-three years of waiting. My daughter hugged

her mom for five minutes at college drop-off. She hugged me for five seconds.

At her wedding, she thanked me for coming. Like I was a guest. Not her father.