Ten years ago, I became Michael’s wife. My husband was not an only child—he had two older brothers who were already married at that time, had stable jobs, and were generally well-settled in life.
Although Margaret Anderson had two other daughters-in-law, I was the only one she never accepted. There were never any open conflicts or direct accusations between us, but everyone could feel the tension.
I attributed this mainly to jealousy. After all, for many years, Michael had been her biggest support, but now he had met another woman—me—and became my pillar instead.
I constantly tried to earn my mother-in-law’s favor. I wanted her to accept me so that one day I could sincerely call her “mom.” However, as long as she treated me with indifference, I couldn’t even entertain that thought.
Despite everything, I respected her. After all, she had raised Michael to be a wonderful man and a devoted father to our children.
When our firstborn arrived, Margaret began visiting us more often, but soon after, her other sons also had children, so her attention was divided among them.
During holidays, she usually chose to visit one of them, while we were always last on the list. The most painful part was when she would completely forget about my birthday.
Michael had to remind her of my existence every year, yet even then, she wouldn’t always acknowledge me.
Eventually, I accepted the fact that I would never have a loving mother-in-law and came to terms with it.
A year ago, my father-in-law passed away, and this deeply affected Margaret.
She became a different person—her energy was gone, and doctors prescribed her a variety of medications. However, her condition only worsened. Anxiety attacks left her so exhausted that she could barely get out of bed. As it later turned out, her older sons and their wives were not in a hurry to visit or take care of her.
And so, for New Year’s, she decided to invite us over.
I prepared the entire holiday dinner myself, as Margaret had no strength for it—she spent most of her time resting. When I asked about her other daughters-in-law, she simply waved her hand dismissively, as if they had no interest in looking after her in her old age.
Right before the president’s New Year’s address, my mother-in-law asked for our attention and shared some news. Her two older sons and their wives had rejected her proposal, so now all her hopes were pinned on us. She wanted us to move in with her, take care of her, and in return, she would sign over her apartment to us.
I was speechless at her audacity!
For years, I had been invisible to her—she rarely visited us and acted as if we weren’t even family. And now that her two beloved sons had turned away from her, she suddenly remembered us?
How selfish!
Michael promised to think about it, but on our way home, I made my stance very clear: let those she gave all her love, care, and attention to take care of her.
If we had never been important to her, why should we now change our entire lives for her?
