Because I refused to sell the land, my daughter-in-law nagged me, turned against me, and didn’t want to take care of me in my old age…

My family lives in a small town in Batangas province, with a three-acre plot of land along the road that has just been planned for expansion, and its value is increasing day by day. In addition, I have some savings, about 500 thousand pesos, which I have given to my eldest son and his wife to pay off their debts and build a house. I thought that the land was also for my children, and if needed later, I could give it to them, but now it was for my old age, so that if I got sick, I would have someone to rely on.

But my daughter-in-law was different. She insisted that I sell the land immediately, saying “if I keep it for a long time, it will lose value” and “now I need money to invest in business”. I did not agree. From that day on, every time my son went to work, she started to nag and mock me. “You can eat the land for sure”, “you have land but don’t know how to use it”, “you’re old, why keep it”… I kept quiet, but inside I was very sad.

Those words were repeated every day, to the point that I was embarrassed even at home. Every meal, I just wanted to eat quickly and then sit on the porch. I knew that she no longer wanted to take care of me in my old age, even though I used to think that I loved her like my own daughter.

That day, my daughter – Maria – unexpectedly came back to her hometown. She saw me picking vegetables on the porch, and my daughter-in-law standing at the door, her voice grumpy. Maria didn’t say anything, just pulled me inside, packed up a few things, and said:

– “Tatay, come live with me in Manila. I’m so tired here.”

That night, Maria called her brother, her voice stern:
– “Bukas, umuwi ka. We need to talk.”

The next day, the whole family sat around the table. Maria told me everything, word for word. The eldest son was silent for a long time, then looked at his wife:
– “Bakit mo tinrato si tatay ng ganun? 500 thousand pesos tatay gave, tatay didn’t ask for it back. That piece of land, tatay wants to keep it, we have to respect it.”

The daughter-in-law bowed her head, saying nothing. I sat beside her, my hands trembling, but my heart felt lighter. Not because of the land, but because at least, I knew that there were still children on my side, not letting old age pass by in sadness.

…I still remember clearly that day, Rosa was cycling home from school, it had just rained, the road was slippery. A truck suddenly crossed the lane, she was hit hard, fell flat on her face, blood was flowing all over her hand. Her left wrist was deeply cut by broken glass.

Luckily, a passerby took her to the emergency room in time. The doctor said if she had been a little slower, she would have lost too much blood and not survived.

After that accident, Rosa became quieter. She spoke less, smiled less. Her left wrist bore a long, wrinkled scar – an indelible mark. Then one day, she disappeared.

My mother said:
– “Your sister went with her biological father. He wanted to take her back to Ilocos, it would be too hard to leave her here with me.”

I was too young to understand everything. I only knew that from that day on, the house was quiet.

Now, the woman sitting in front of me – my wife, with her teary eyes and that scar – looked eerily like my sister.

I swallowed.
– “Isabel… was your name… Rosa?”

She looked up, her lips pursed, her hands gripping the edge of the sheet. Her whole body was shaking. After a moment of silence, she nodded, very slowly:
– “Oo… dati ang pangalan ko ay Rosa.”

I felt like the world was collapsing.
– “So… why? Why did you… become my wife? Does my mother know?”

She burst into tears:
– “Hindi ko alam na ikaw… Hindi ko nakilala. Akala ko… iba na si Nilo of the past. I also changed my last name, my first name, and even my hometown. All because of…”

I choked up, my heart beating chaotically:
– “Why? Because of my mother?”

She did not answer right away, but reached out to touch the scar, as a painful reflex:
– “She always considered me an illegitimate child – a burden, a thorn in her eyes. The day I had an accident, she only said: ‘It’s lucky I didn’t die’. When my biological father took me away, I thought it was a new beginning… But it wasn’t. I was abandoned, had to live with an acquaintance. I learned a trade, worked on my own, and supported myself. Later, I had a family, but my husband beat me, left the two children behind, and disappeared…”

I sat motionless.

– “I thought my life was over… until my mother called, saying that someone wanted to meet me. I had no hope, I was just going to go out of respect. I… didn’t know it was you.”

The room was silent. The sound of the fan whirred as if piercing through my memories.

I jumped up and rushed out of the room. My head was filled with questions, memories, and pain. I walked all night, and only returned when it was almost dawn.

Isabel sat slumped at the door, her eyes swollen, the two children curled up inside the room.

I knelt down in front of her.

“Sister… no… Isabel. I lost you once. This time… don’t let me lose you again.”

She burst into tears and rushed to hug me. For the first time in years, I felt that arm – the arm of the sister who used to take me to school, who used to shield me from the rain and sun – so warm.