As an 80-year-old woman who has lived over 40 years in the South, my mother now insists on living in our ancestral home in my father’s hometown, despite our hopes she would stay in the city near us. We’ve arranged for her care, providing VND9 million (US$355) monthly for her and her caregiver’s living expenses, which doesn’t even include additional costs for the caregiver’s wages, medications and supplements. Overall, we spend about VND24 million each month—a sum that ensures a comfortable lifestyle for two in a rural area.

Despite this, my mother frequently complains of running out of money and asks for more whenever we visit. Each of my siblings has independently built a life without any inheritance from our parents, as there was none to give. My father passed away when I was just 15, and my oldest brother supported my college education financially. I managed all my own expenses for my wedding and property purchases without relying on anyone.

Two years ago, my mother gave my older sister two maces of gold since she had struggled in the past to care for youngest siblings. I was genuinely happy for her. Recently, however, my mother has asked for the gold back to “prepare her final resting place.” She told my sister not to tell us about this, fearing we might stop giving her money if we knew. I suspect she wants the gold back to donate to someone else, believing that giving to others brings blessings, while giving to her own children does not.

I then suggested that if she needed something, she should directly tell us, and we would prepare it for her, rather than demanding the gold back from my sister, who worked as a laborer and wasn’t wealthy in her youth.

My mother has always been fond of fortune-telling and places great importance on rituals. She is overly trusting, eager to do charity, compassionate, and enjoys visiting temples. Even when I was a child, my mother would often lament in front of me, letting her hair down in disarray, refusing to eat, and hiding away in a corner of the house whenever life disappointed her or things didn’t go as she wished.

As the youngest daughter, I felt burdened and took it upon myself to soothe her emotions. As I grew older, she placed high expectations on my brothers, expecting them to be wealthy and to provide her with more money. Rarely would she cry in front of my brothers, instead, she would moan and lament mostly in front of me.

Her demands have caused much hardship for my father and us siblings. I think we should try to indulge her now, but I still feel exhausted and frustrated. I fear speaking up might make people think I’m unfilial or that I’m complaining about caring for my mother, but I genuinely feel weary because, despite all our efforts to provide for her, she is never satisfied, never feels it’s enough, and never acknowledges the love her children have for her.

Relatives back in our hometown, as well as her younger sister who lives nearby, often concoct reasons to ask my mother for money, either by pleading poverty or suggesting places that supposedly need charity. Many people try to take advantage of her financially.

In past years, before I got married, I would often hide away in a park and cry for hours on Lunar New Year’s Eve, overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness and the suffocating sadness within my family. After graduating from university, I tried my best to take care of my mother, but the closer I got to her, the more I felt hurt.

When I got married, knowing that my mother often criticized her daughters-in-law, I invited her to live with me as soon as I bought a house, so I could take care of her without burdening my sisters-in-law and to keep peace within my siblings’ families. However, my depression and anxiety worsened from that point. Whenever I traveled abroad, I made sure to invite my mother along, and to date, my siblings and I have taken her to around 15 countries. Whenever I found something delicious, I would buy it for her, yet after a single bite, she would cry even harder. She would say there’s no point for her enjoying good food when people back home have nothing to eat.

When I was at work, it was fine, but when I came home and asked my mother if she was eating well or sleeping well, she would look miserable, sullen, and despairing. Meanwhile, the helper at home told me she was eating well. I kept asking, constantly chasing after her emotions, always feeling that I wasn’t good enough, burdened by guilt and inadequacy, and eventually, I had to seek treatment for anxiety disorder and depression.

We regularly engage in charity, but within reasonable limits, while my mother, upon hearing the garbage collector lament their circumstances, would go inside and give them VND1 million. Over the years, she would cry, and I would rush to soothe her emotions, giving her more cash to keep her happy. Yet, even though we provide her with nice clothes, medication, food, and travel, she still sees her life as tragic and herself as suffering, believing her children are ungrateful and inadequate. This makes me wonder when I will ever be recognized as a filial child.

What can I do to improve the situation?