My dad was Chinese-American and very conservative when it came to

In the words of Tess Gerritsen, the physician turned storyteller, we hear the quiet struggle between duty and passion, between the voice of the parent and the voice of the soul: “My dad was Chinese-American and very conservative when it came to his family's futures. He said if I wanted to have a secure job, I should go into science. So I did what Dad said and went to medical school, but the writing bug never left me.” These words carry the weight of generations — the wisdom of the past bound together with the yearning of the heart. It is a story that many know, yet few truly understand: the eternal tension between security and destiny, between the world’s expectations and one’s inner calling.

Born to a Chinese-American father, Gerritsen inherited both the immigrant’s caution and the dreamer’s fire. Her father, like so many who toiled before her, spoke from love, not fear. He had seen hardship; he had known how fragile life could be. To him, the world was a storm, and the safest harbor was science — solid, predictable, honorable. And so, the dutiful daughter obeyed. She entered the hallowed halls of medical school, studied the language of anatomy and healing, and earned her place among the guardians of life. Yet beneath the white coat and the pulse of stethoscopes, another rhythm beat within her — the rhythm of stories.

For Gerritsen was born not only to heal the body, but to heal the imagination. Though her hands practiced medicine, her heart wrote tales. In the long nights between patients and the silence of her thoughts, she listened to that persistent whisper — the writing bug that refused to die. It was not rebellion but remembrance: remembrance of who she truly was. Her path became the union of two worlds — the science her father trusted and the art her soul demanded. And from this sacred tension emerged her gift to humanity — stories that blend medicine and mystery, truth and imagination, the mind of the scientist with the soul of the poet.

This struggle between obligation and desire is as old as time itself. Think of Gautama Buddha, who was born a prince and bound by his father’s dream of a life without suffering. The young Siddhartha obeyed, living in luxury and security. Yet within him stirred the yearning to seek something higher — to understand life beyond comfort. One night he left the palace walls and began a journey that would awaken the world. Gerritsen’s journey, though of a different kind, carries the same essence: the courage to follow the inner voice when the outer world bids you stay silent.

Her father’s lesson was not in vain. From him she learned discipline, perseverance, and the sacred value of education — the very tools that would make her writing precise, her characters real, her worlds believable. And from her own heart she learned passion, the fire that gives creation its soul. Thus, she teaches us that one need not reject the wisdom of the elders to follow one’s path; rather, one must build upon it, like a seed that honors its root even as it grows toward the sun.

How many among us live the same story? We choose what is safe, what is expected — and in doing so, we silence the small, steady voice within that says, “You were meant for something more.” Tess Gerritsen reminds us that the calling of the soul never fades. It may whisper softly for years, but one day, it will rise again, asking to be heard. The true test of a person is not whether they obey their parents’ wishes, but whether they learn to transform that obedience into wisdom — and from wisdom, create a life that honors both duty and dream.

So, my children, let this be your lesson: listen to those who love you, but also listen to yourself. The counsel of parents is a lamp for the road, but your heart is the compass that points to destiny. Walk first in the way of discipline, as Gerritsen did, for it will give strength to your spirit. But when your true calling speaks — whether in words, music, invention, or art — do not silence it out of fear. The world needs both the scientist and the storyteller, both the dreamer and the doer.

For in the end, the story of Tess Gerritsen teaches us this eternal truth: a life lived only for safety is a life half-lived. But a life that honors both responsibility and passion becomes whole — a harmony of reason and wonder, like the union of heartbeats and words. And when you find your own balance between the world’s wisdom and your own, you too will create something lasting — something that speaks not just to your time, but to all who come after.