It irks me so much when relatives impose on an in-law. In this case, someone’s daughter-in-law had to be advised to send money to her ill mother in Bicol.
Wait, that’s not the whole story.
See, money was the main problem. They’re really poor, okay, but not that poor. Anyway, they all opined that the little money she has, instead of using it to get to Naga, would be more useful if she sends it through her sister. Practical, yes, but I totally felt bad. I felt I have to speak up so I did. I don’t want to think that I had something to do with it, but she was ultimately allowed to go to her mother anyway.
Her mother is already in a coma. It could be, heaven forbid, her last time to see her mother. She should not be deprived of that chance. There is money anyway. The issue is just how to use it. My mother, the moody person that she has become since all this menopause brouhaha, seconded that ill advice. I asked her what would she feel if she’s dying *knocks on wood*, and because I’m too cash-strapped and in a far province, I wouldn’t try to see her for the last time, and instead I would just send her money?
Believe me, the “Hindi naman yan gagaling kahit pumunta ka” reasoning makes me lose my cool, all the time.
I was very fortunate that I am not as financially-strained as most people but I know how my cousin-in-law feels.
I decided to send my Dad money that fateful Friday, not because he didn’t have his own, but because the fact that I did send him that amount would make him go to the hospital “for posterity sake”.
That night, my father died.
Since it has only been less than a year, moments come to me when I hear my niece again breaking the news that Daddy died. That images of a hospital, even on TV shows, would bring me back to that rainy night at the morgue when I touched Daddy and he was still warm, unable to believe that he’s really gone.
I sometimes wish I didn’t ask someone to send the money. I should have went to him personally and asked him to go to the hospital (he’s stubborn like me so he just wouldn’t go— he eventually did but the pain in his chest was already terrible, doctors said that he’s been having an attack since morning, anyway I digress). Many people say we were all spared from more pain because we didn’t see him die. Or that he didn’t breathe his last in our arms. Yes, they’re right in a way, but sometimes, I wish I was there.
So anyway, I hate them my know-it-all relatives for suggesting that. I just hope her mother gets better.