Every month I gave my daughter-in-law 2,000 pesos from my pension so she could go to the market, and yet, the other day I just complained a little that the meat was too fatty…

Every month I handed my daughter-in-law 2,000 pesos from my pension so she could buy groceries and cook. I thought: “I’m old now, the only thing I want is a decent meal, to share the table with my children and grandchildren.”

But one day, while we were eating, I noticed that the meat was too fatty. I just made a simple remark:

—“Next time buy leaner meat, dear, it’s easier to eat that way.”

I thought it was just an observation, but my daughter-in-law frowned and turned away without saying anything. The next morning she went to the market and came back with a spoiled fish. The stench filled the kitchen. She served the broth at the table and when I saw it, I couldn’t even bring the spoon to my mouth. Rage was choking me.

“This is the limit,” I thought. “I raised crows just for them to peck out my eyes. Instead of being grateful, she acts like a spoiled child.”

So I decided not to give her another peso. I wanted to see how she would manage.

But just three days later, my son called me into the living room. He sat there very seriously, and next to him was my daughter-in-law, arms crossed and looking smug, as if she had already won the battle. My son looked at me and, in an authoritative tone, said:

—“From now on, Mom, you don’t need to give money to my wife. But you also must not interfere in the kitchen, or comment on what is bought or prepared. You just eat, and leave everything else to us. Oh, and another thing: don’t cling to your pension, because what do you even need it for? Better give it to my wife so she can manage it, in case you waste it.”

I felt my heart stop. I couldn’t believe that the son I had raised with so much sacrifice would speak to me that way. My daughter-in-law, meanwhile, smiled with satisfaction, like someone who has won a game.

My chest hurt, tears fell on their own. In an instant I understood that, to them, I had become a burden, and that those few pesos were only an excuse to reveal their true faces.

I stayed silent, staring into the void. The son I once carried in my arms was now treating me like a stranger. But they didn’t know that I had already taken precautions.

Three months earlier, when I first felt my health failing, I took all my savings — more than 300,000 pesos I had hidden in an old wardrobe — to my youngest daughter, who lives in Guanajuato. I told her:
—“Daughter, if something happens to me one day, you take care of my burial. Don’t let your brother and sister-in-law fight over my money.”

I also made a will, with a notary, stating clearly that the house would go to her, because she’s the only one who visits me, brings me medicine, and has never made me feel alone.

I wiped my tears, lifted my head, and with a trembling but firm voice I told them:
—“Don’t worry anymore about my pension. From today, I will manage it myself. And to be clear: I have nothing else to give you.”

My daughter-in-law’s eyes widened, and my son was left speechless.
—“What do you mean, Mom?” he stammered. “Your pension isn’t even enough for much…”

I smiled softly, with a new sense of relief in my heart:
—“True, it’s not much. But what I did have, I already entrusted to someone who knows how to value it. And it’s not you two.”

Silence fell over the living room. My daughter-in-law’s face turned red with anger, and my son could barely utter a word. I stood up with my cane and went upstairs to my room, leaving them frozen behind me.

That same night I packed my things and called my daughter. She arrived at dawn to take me back to her home in the countryside.

The day I left that house — once filled with the laughter of my grandchildren — I didn’t cry anymore. I understood that sometimes blood gets clouded by greed. But I also knew that I still had a place to return to, someone who truly loved me.

I smiled and held my daughter’s hand tightly during the trip to Guanajuato. Behind me I left that house, where my son and daughter-in-law would live among the cold walls they themselves had built with their selfishness.

And I, at last, had taken a step forward… to keep the peace of my final years.