One of the most famous stories in the Christian Bible is the story of the Prodigal Son (Prodigal means "wasteful extravagance"). Here is my take, but feel free to read more authentic renditions (e.g. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable_of_the_Prodigal_Son).
A wealthy father has two grown sons. One says he wants to enjoy his inheritance now and not wait for the father's death. The father complies. So that son goes out into the world and fritters away his inheritance on "unworthy" women, drugs, and alcohol and finery, but loses everything when he runs out of money. So he sees the error of his ways and returns home in contrition. The father meets him and showers him with things, including a feast of a fatted calf.
But what of the other son who is heart broken. He had stayed home and looked after his father and the family business, doing well, and obeying his father's commandments. He never was so much as treated to a spit roasted goat to share with his friends. I call him the Dutiful Son. The Dutiful Son is upset and doesn't even attend the Prodigal Son's feast.
My sympathies have always been with the Dutiful Son who well deserved some praise and celebrations from the father, but my mother would have said, "Doing good is its own reward."
Among other things, we are asked to believe that the Prodigal Son was forever cured and had no recidivism, something I very much doubt.
So which was I? Well, I went into a profession that almost guaranteed I would be far from home, but I did take care of myself and didn't have to return home defeated, so you can't say I was the Prodigal son who lived in wasteful extravagance. So it doesn't really fit.
My late brother never moved far from home and took care of my mother, even seeing her once a week in the nursing home and looking after her medications (He was a medical doctor), whereas I saw my mother maybe twice a year.
Before my mother went into the nursing home, she would visit me for a week. I had a love/hate relationship with my mother, but when she was away I could forgive her and she did many wonderful things for me.* But before the week's visit was over, I would have to forgive her all over again because of her "artistic" personality.
Clearly my brother was the Dutiful Son.
* http://stopcontinentaldrift.blogspot.com/2013/03/side-boards-poem.html
http://stopcontinentaldrift.blogspot.com/2013/12/the-sword-biographical.html
http://stopcontinentaldrift.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-career-as-pianist.html
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