The Daughter-in-Law Who Died in Childbirth, Eight People Couldn’t Carry the Coffin, the Mother-in-Law Wept and When the Coffin Was Opened…

The trumpets of mourning sounded, accompanied by the patter of rain on the old tin roof. In the middle of the yard, the golden coffin was placed on two benches. Around it, the attendees were crowded, all bowing and sympathizing with the death of Luz — the kind daughter-in-law, who died due to childbirth that she couldn’t handle.

Luz was only twenty-five years old. Since becoming a daughter-in-law, she had always been respectful and caring for her mother-in-law, considering her a true parent. Aling Rosa — Luz’s mother-in-law — always boasted:
—“Blessed is any family that has a daughter-in-law like Luz.”

But tragedy struck suddenly. One night, Luz’s stomach hurt terribly, crying while holding her stomach. She was taken to the hospital, but it was too late. The baby was not saved, and Luz never woke up again.

The whole family collapsed. Aling Rosa was crying and fainting. Mang Ernesto, the father, was silent, staring at the photo of his son-in-law placed in the coffin — a happy smile, eyes full of life.

The time for the funeral arrived. Eight young men approached, placing their hands on the side of the coffin to lift it. But surprisingly: no matter how hard they tried, it would not lift. Their faces turned red, the veins in their hands trembled, but the coffin seemed to be glued to the ground.

—“Maybe, he is still carrying a weight on his chest,” whispered an old neighbor.

The albularyo who was there said:
—“Open the coffin. He has something more to say.”

The screws were removed. When the lid was lifted, everyone was stunned. On Luz’s face, there were traces of tears. Her eyes, slightly closed, her eyelashes wet.

Aling Rosa cried, knelt down next to the coffin, holding her daughter-in-law’s cold hand:
—“Luz, my child… don’t cry anymore… If there’s something you didn’t say, tell me. I’m sorry, my child, I’m sorry…”

Everything was silent. Suddenly, Ramon — Luz’s husband — sobbed. He was lying on the floor, sobbing.

Everyone was shocked. Aling Rosa stopped crying and turned to her daughter:
—“Ramon, why are you like that? Can you hear Luz?”

Ramon raised his face, his eyes swollen, wet with tears. His voice trembled:
—“It’s my fault… I’m the reason she died in pain and suffering…”

Everyone stopped.

Ramon took a deep breath, barely able to speak:
—“That day, she found out I was with someone else… She saw the messages. She didn’t say anything, but she cried all night, holding her stomach. I promised to leave the woman, but… it was too late. When her stomach hurt, I took her to the hospital… but she couldn’t be saved. Forgive me, Luz… forgive me…”

The entire yard wept. Aling Rosa, trembling, cried out:
—“My God! Why did my daughter-in-law suffer like this… Luz, my child, I wish we had protected you…”

Ramon’s tears rolled down, squeezing the side of the coffin:
—“Luz… forgive me. If you’re angry, if you hate me, I’ll accept it. But I wish… don’t carry this burden anymore. Let us take you to your final destination in peace…”

The coffin suddenly moved.

The herbalist nodded:
—“He has forgiven you. He is whole.”

Again, the eight young men approached. This time, they easily lifted the coffin. The trumpet played along, sad and heavy, as everyone made way.

Ramon was left kneeling on the floor, his tears mixing with the rain. In his heart, he knew that no word of “forgiveness” could atone for his sin. For the rest of his life, in every dream, the image of Luz with a teardrop on her cheek would remain a shadow — a reminder that there are wounds that no amount of repentance can ever heal.

Post-mortem: The coffin is as heavy as resentment

After the funeral, Ramon almost became a shadow. He lived a secluded life, with long hair and beard, and every day he just hung around the small house where Luz’s portrait was lit by a candle that never went out.

Every time he looked at his wife’s face in the photo, her eyes still filled with tears like the day the coffin was opened, Ramon choked up. Every night he dreamed of Luz, her eyes wet with tears looking at him without saying a word. That silence was the heaviest sentence: no scolding, no forgiveness, only eyes full of remorse.

He gave up all his old habits, no more drinking, and no longer dared to step near any woman. For the rest of his life, Ramon lived as a hopeless atoner.

The newborn baby, although not able to cry at birth, but in Luz’s last wish, Mrs. Rosa decided to adopt an orphaned granddaughter in the family to fill the void. She told everyone:

—“Even though she is not Luz’s blood, she will call me lola (grandmother), call Luz ina (mother). That way, my daughter-in-law’s soul in the afterlife will be comforted.”

Mrs. Rosa took care of the baby with all her love, considering it the last legacy that Luz left behind. Every time she lulled her grandchild to sleep, she whispered:
—“Go to sleep, my child, there is mother Luz in the sky looking down, protecting you…”

The whole village was touched by her heart, and even more sorry for Luz’s unfortunate fate.

Many years passed, that small village still passed on the story: “Luz’s funeral – the coffin that 8 people could not lift.”

People told their children and grandchildren as a lesson: “Never let a woman die in injustice, because resentment is heavier than iron and stone.”

During holidays, when passing by Luz’s grave, many people quietly bowed their heads and whispered:
—“May she rest in peace, and forgive those who have caused her suffering.”

Ramon aged quickly, his face gaunt, his eyes sunken. He never left the village, nor did he remarry. All his property he left to the child his mother raised, as a gift of atonement to Luz’s soul.

At the end of his life, on his deathbed, Ramon only had time to whisper:
—“Luz… kung maaari… patawarin mo ako.”

People say that at that moment, the candle lit before Luz’s portrait suddenly went out, leaving the room in darkness.

Many years later, the younger generation in the village still remembers that story: a coffin that could not be lifted because it was full of tears and resentment. And they see it as a proof that, in love and marriage, betrayal and lies will leave such serious wounds that even death will not spare.

Luz — the gentle daughter-in-law — has passed away, but her story has become an eternal reminder for the whole village: cherish it, do not wait until tears are still falling in the coffin, then all apologies will become meaningless.