I am almost 60 years old this year, my husband passed away early, I have raised two boys and a girl by myself to be educated.
I have saved every penny for many years,  now I have saved more than ₱ 7,040,000 pesos in my account .
I don’t want to be rich, I just want to have a place to stay when I am sick, and have a decent funeral when I die.

But when I got old and wanted to go back to live with my children, none of them wanted to take me home.
The three of them sat down at a family meeting and said, without beating around the bush:

– “Mom, whoever you move in with, you have to divide the money clearly. Mom, give all three billion to us, so we can figure out how to take care of them…”

I asked again:

– “What if mom doesn’t share?”

The three looked at each other, the youngest smiled faintly:

– “Then… you should stay home. Everyone is busy, no one is qualified to pick you up.”

I sat there, stunned. I lived for my child all my life, and only when I was weak did I realize that  my child only wanted to “take care of me” when I had money .

I  was seething, didn’t say another word , the next day quietly packed my things,  went to a high-end private nursing home, and paid the fee every 5 years .

I kept all the money and didn’t share it with anyone. I
only left a piece of paper with three scribbled lines:

“Mom is not something to be bought. When you miss her, come visit her. Otherwise… she can take care of herself.”

3 months later.

I was reading the morning newspaper at the hospital when the manager handed me the phone:

– “Someone from your family called and cried a lot.”

It was an old neighbor calling to report:
“The house that my mother registered for my eldest son to temporarily live in for the past 5 years was mortgaged to open a shop. Now he is bankrupt and the bank has seized the house. He and his wife ran away, leaving behind their 4-year-old grandson and daughter-in-law who are crying.”

I was speechless.

Not because of regret for the house.
But because of  the child you trusted the most — sold your trust for a bunch of frivolous illusions.

That evening, I opened the safe again, took out the red book of another house I bought anonymously under an acquaintance’s name, and flipped through the copy of the will I had written before:

“I will give my property to whoever truly loves me, not just when I have money.”

And then I picked up the phone and called my daughter-in-law:

– “Tomorrow, bring your child here. I have something to tell you, just you and me.”