In my twenties I was young and hungry. It felt like an adventure, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work on projects that didn't exist back home. It was also a way to achieve independence and prove to myself that I had what it took to succeed alone and compete with what I perceived to be better educated engineers.

In my thirties I started to notice how I had become estranged from friends and family. My parents began to look old at first, and eventually weak and frail. Those fears turned true when I lost my dad in my late thirties. I've heard other people talk about the shock of seeing your parent age in discrete increments every time they travel back home, so I know I am not alone in this.

Now in my forties I finally have some free time to look back and wonder whether it was worth it. From this vantage point, a simpler life close to friends and family looks pleasant, but at the same time I figure that if I had stayed then I would have always wondered what it would have been like if I had moved overseas.

So, it's complex. These days I'm thinking of possibly going back to Spain. It has better weather and food, if nothing else.