Dear Emily,
Does gratitude mean forever, or does it also run its course?
My father died right after I was born and my older sisters were only 3 and 1. I remember that It was a hand-to-mouth existence for our family.
It helped that my sisters and I were all honor students from grade school to high school and also in college, where we worked our way through. Still, it was difficult. Only one of my mother’s sisters married well enough for us to go to her for financial help.
We found good jobs after college and our family finally found some security. I married a kind and generous man who knew the value of money and who invested the little that we earned wisely.
My mother’s sister’s family lived it up when we were growing up. They traveled and socialized like there was no tomorrow. But little did my aunt know that her husband was a gambler and a womanizer. Her three spoiled kids didn’t find the life they had expected.
Money was suddenly scarce, and my aunt had to come down from her perch. She asked to stay in a condo we had invested in because she didn’t want to squeeze into the homes of her kids. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but that was 10 years ago. She said we owed her a lot when we were growing up, and she nominated me to do the honors of paying her back.
We haven’t verbalized our feelings that whatever she gave us was already paid in full when we worked for her – doing her laundry, cooking, cleaning, and running errands for her whole family – for years! Whatever clothes we received were cast-offs from her kids, and food was very often scraps from her table. We were only relatives by name. She treated us more like her servants than blood kin.
Now we’re all grown and the tables are turned. And there seems no end to paying our debt of gratitude.
Ungrateful?
Emily says:
Dear Ungrateful?
It’s an old Filipino custom to pay a debt of gratitude till your lungs drop like lead. But if you believe you’ve paid this aunt enough – short of ripping the blood from your veins – try to wean her off your generosity by pulling the rug out from under her.
Tell her you are selling your property and the sale is in contract and nonnegotiable. At this time, she should already accept the notion of living with her own children, or face the prospect that something more pathetic will happen to her.
Sweeten the deal by giving her a generous cash settlement you can afford and which she cannot refuse in her present situation. Be firm. You’ve had enough from her.
She probably forgot that gratitude can actually have a due date!
(Email letters to emarcelo629@gmail.com)