You Will Go Far

One afternoon, when I was fourteen, I was at my desk doing homework when my uncle, who was visiting us, came into the room and sat on the edge of my bed. He asked what I was working on, and as I explained my assignment, he listened and smiled. He didn’t stay long, but as he got up to leave, he placed his hand softly on my head and, saying goodbye, told me:

“You will go far.”

At fourteen, my life was my family and friends, our pets, school, time spent outdoors, and the rest of the small world I knew. I remember feeling puzzled by my uncle’s words. What did he see in me that made him say that? I was just a quiet, shy teenage girl trying to figure out who I was and where I was going.

I didn’t know that would be the last time I’d see my uncle or hear his voice, but his words became a treasure I’ve carried with me ever since. He passed away not long after that day — far too young. His death is something I’ve always struggled to understand. I didn’t just lose an uncle; I lost someone who felt like an older brother, a protector, and a reminder that I mattered. He was so much fun to be around — a big kid himself.

He was only in my life for fourteen years, but there isn’t a single day that goes by when I don’t think of him.

As life has unfolded — through difficult moments and unexpected turns — when I’ve questioned my direction or wondered where my path is going, I remember my uncle’s words:

You will go far.

Many years after his passing, while browsing in a bookshop, I found a journal with his exact words embossed on the cover. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I held it in my hands, reading the phrase over and over, remembering my uncle and that last moment with him. I was stunned by the coincidence — or maybe it wasn’t a coincidence at all. I needed to hear his words that day, and I had to buy that journal. I’ve never written in it. It sits untouched, not because I’m saving it for something special, but simply because having those words in print feels important to me.

Sometimes people who aren’t here long enough leave us with words that carry deep meaning. My uncle saw something in me long before I learned to see it in myself.

In many ways, this week reminded me again that nothing is forever — that change is inevitable, whether we’re ready for it or not. I’ve learned that strength and resilience must come from within. Even when I feel unsure, I remind myself that I’ve found my way through uncertainty many times before — and I will again.

And when I take a moment to reflect, I can see that I’ve already come far — maybe not in the ways I imagined I would, but perhaps in the way it was meant to be.

Maybe going “far” isn’t a destination.
Maybe my uncle’s words were just meant to keep me going —
to give me courage to continue.
And on the days when I struggle to do that,
I remember his words again:

You will go far.

~ Rhonda ~