"You what I quit,
You what I quit,
You what I quit"

It was a nightmare to me because I was not a quitter. I had been raised with credos like never give up, hang in there, hang tough, work hard to get the job done, and most importantly, nobody likes a quitter. My grandfather had laced up his high-top shoes every day and worked from dusk to dawn to make his citrus ranch a success. My father had always finished whatever he had started and he had taught me that good things came from hard work. And now I was terrified by the recurring nightmare mantra that was haunting me day and night. It was as if my father and grandfather were standing over me with their proud postures and callused hands questioning my right to carry on the family name.