My brother drove his wife to despairthen the unthinkable happened.
My brother was my role model. Since childhood, I always looked up to my older brother, Edward. He was my mentor, protector, and the person I wanted to emulate.
When I got married, he told me, “Remember one thing, little brother. Never tell your wife how much money you have. If you let her, shell drain your pockets. Keep her on a tight leashdont let her spend recklessly!”
At the time, it seemed extreme. But Edward was five years older, already married, and I assumed he knew best.
Luckily, my wife, Emily, wasnt like that. She didnt chase designer labels, demand expensive gifts, or dream of a lavish lifestyle.
Over time, Edward and I drifted apart. Our wives didnt get along, and he was consumed by his business. I played in an orchestra while he owned farms and land. Every time we met, I braced myself for criticism. Edward always found a way to lecture me.
“Money over family” was his mantra.
“Youre irresponsible!” hed say. “Why live paycheck to paycheck? Why let your wife waste money on nonsense?”
I never argued, but his words stung. After these talks, Id try to save, but soon slipped back into old habits.
Edward had a daughter, Charlotte. He kept her under lock and keyno pocket money, no trendy clothes, no makeup. She grew up in strict discipline.
Sometimes, shed visit us, and Emily and I would sneak her a little cash. At sixteen, Charlotte ran awayjust to escape her fathers control. Edward even said it served her right, blaming himself for not protecting her.
But the worst was yet to come.
Two years ago, we took a family trip to the seaside. Thats when I saw it firsthand.
Edward hounded his wife over every penny.
“Another coffee? Cant you drink it at home?”
“A pizza? Have you lost your mind? Its extortionate!”
“An ice cream for the kids? Let them drink water!”
He scrutinized every expense, every receipt. Strolling with him was unbearable. My kids, like any others, wanted candy floss, balloons, souvenirsbut Edward just scowled and muttered, “Youll bankrupt your parents. Is that what you want?”
All this, despite him being far wealthier than me. He was simply terrified of spending.
Emily had enough. “Lets stay a few more days. Without them,” she said.
I agreed.
Edward and his wife left that nighthe was eager to attend a farm equipment auction.
But the next morning, I got the call.
Thered been an accident. Hed fallen asleep at the wheel.
I lost my brother that day.
Since then, Ive been a different man. I no longer hoard money for “the future.” I dont fret over the price of a coffee. I buy gifts for my children, beautiful things for my wife, sharp suits for myself.
Yes, money mattersbut whats the point of hoarding it without truly living? Clinging to wealth like youll take it to the grave is madness.
The real treasure is the people you love. Because once theyre gone, no amount of money can bring them back.
