Pride can be a dangerous thing.
You go through life thinking money is everything. The bigger your house, the bigger the asshole you can be. You can put everyone down because their safe isn't as big as yours or as well stacked. You ignore your family because they don't come up to your standards anymore. You completely disregard and dismiss them in their hour of need.
And then you're eighty and your wife dies.Your own children are too busy to take care of you. Once you lived in a mansion, now you live in a nursing home.
For a man with seven brothers and a sister, your pride has left you a lonely man with no home to call your own.
With what little dignity you think you have left, you throw a shit fit so your children to send you off to another country under the facade of a vacation.
You convince yourself that your siblings have taken you in out of love, but deep down you know its only out of responsibility and to avoid any guilt they might feel later on.
In a house full of people, you can find yourself alone in a room with no one to talk to.
So that you convince yourself that the 100 influential men you are reading about are enough to keep you company; at least they don't blame you for the mistakes you made decades ago.
You find yourself living with those children whose father you refused to accommodate in your house. A man who just needed a place to stay after his eye surgery; who could either afford the surgery or the hotel expenses. Now the blind man is dead and the mansion is gone and regret is your partner till death do you part.And drowning in a sea of reproachful looks, you find yourself fighting for a breath of redemption.
But the time for atonement is buried with the brother you once claimed to love.
And deliverance will come when you're six feet under.