I received this in my email from an egroup yesterday, and right there at the office I cried,this afternoon I retold the story to my husband and know what? he cried too and then we hug each other telling ourselves how important the open communication is in marriage. This is a very sad story and I don't even have proof if it's true or not. Please read on and take a box of tissue with you or a hankie would be better.
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Just two years after our marriage, hubby brought up the idea of asking
Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years with
us. Hubby's father passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured
much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him
through to a university degree. You could say that she suffered a great deal
and did everything you could expect of a woman to bring hubby to where he is
today.
I immediately agreed and started packing the spare room, which has a balcony
facing the South to let her enjoy the sunshine and plant some greenery.
Hubby stood in the bright room, and suddenly just picked me up and started
spinning round and round. As I begged him to put me down, he
said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to test
on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me up at any moment
put the tiny me into his pockets. Whenever we have an argument and both
refuses to back down, he would pick me up and spin me over his head
continuously until I surrender and beg for mercy. I became addicted to this
kind of panic-joy feeling.
Mother brought along her countryside habits and lifestyle with her. For
example; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room, she
could not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you young people
spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eat the
flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will
also become better." Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby
smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people' s habit; slowly you will get use to it."
Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever came
home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs. I told her and she
would shake her head and express displeasure. Sometimes, when I come home
with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every item how much they
cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get even more upset about it.
Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't tell
her the full price of everything would solve it." There begins the friction
to our otherwise happy lifestyle.
Mother hates it most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast. In
your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife? At the
breakfast table, mother facial __expression is always like the dark clouds
before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice. She would use her
chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest. As I am a
dance teacher in the Children's Palace and is exhausted from along day of
dancing around, I do not wish to give up the luxury of that additional few
minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned a deaf ear to all the
protest mother makes.
>From time to time, mother would help out with some
housework, but soon her
help created additional work for me. For example: she would keep all kinds
of plastic bags accumulating them so that she sell them later on, and that
resulted in our house being filled with all the trash bags; she would scrimp
on dish washing detergent when helping to wash the dishes and so as not to
hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash them again. One day, late at night,
mother saw me quietly washing the dishes, and "Bam" she slams her bedroom
door and cried very loudly in her room. Hubby was placed in a difficult
position, and after that, he did not speak to me for that entire night. I
pretended to be a spoilt child, tried acting cute, but he totally ignored
me. I got mad and asked him: "What did I do wrong?" Hubby stared at me and
said: "Can't you just give in to her once? We couldn't possibly die eating
from a bowl however unclean it is, right?"
After that incident, for a long period of time, mother did not speak to me
and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the house.
During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as to who to
please. In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother
took on the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any
prompting. At the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating
his breakfast and cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to
perform my duty as a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I
resorted to buying my own breakfast on my way to work.
That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me: "LD, is it
because you think that mum's cooking is not clean that's why you chose not
to eat at home?" He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as
feeling of unfairness overwhelmed me. After some time, hubby
sighed: "LD, just for me, can you have breakfast at home?" I am left with no
choice but to return to the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a
sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my
throat. I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I couldn't. I threw
down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everything out. Just
as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly
in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway staring at me
with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came out of
it, I really didn't mean it. We had our very first big fight that day;
mother took a look at us, then stood up and slowly made her way out of the
house. Hubby gave me a final stare in the eye and followed mother down the
stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I was so
furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best and putting up with
her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep having the
feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupled with
all the events happening at home, I was at then low point in my life.
Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible, you should go and see a
doctor."
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why I
threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that
otherwise happy news. Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been through this
before, thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day?
At the hospital entrance, I saw my hubby standing there. It had only been
three days, but he looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but one
look at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him. He
followed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that he doesn't know
me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my heart.
I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab. At that moment, I
have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my
hubby:
"Darling, I am having your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me around
in circles of joy. What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my
tears started rolling down. Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the
test of one fight? Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and
the disgusted look in his eyes. I cried and wet the corner of the blanket.
That night, sound of the drawers opening woke me up. I switched on the
lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face. He was removing the
money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank deposit book
and some money and left the house. Maybe he really intends to leave me for
good. What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. I gave a
few dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again.
The next day, I did not go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a
good talk with hubby. I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird
look and said: "Mr. Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is now in the
hospital." I stood there in shock. I rushed to the hospital and by the time
I found hubby, mother had already passed away. Hubby did not look at me, his
face was expressionless.
I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control the
tears in my eyes. My god, how could this happen? Throughout the funeral,
hubby did say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare
at me. I only managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other
people. That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed toward
the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the
countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she
tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her...
I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up
that morning, if we had not quarreled, if...In his heart, I am indirectly
the killer of his mother. Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every
night with a strong liquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt
and self pity and could hardly breathe. I wanted to explain to him, tell him
that we are going to have our baby soon, but each time, I saw the dead look
in his eyes, all the words I have at the brink of my mouth just fell back
in. I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding
though none of these events happening had been my fault at all.
Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubby came
home later and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living
together like strangers who don't know each other. I am like the dead knot
in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, I
saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed
her hair for her, I understood what it meant. After recovering from that
moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and
stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have nothing to say to him, and
there is no need to say anything.
The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby
stretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challenging
me. I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at the
brink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, I
will collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home, he had chosen to use that as a way to
indicate to me: Following mother's death so did our love for each other. He
did not come home anymore after that. Sometimes, when I returned home from
work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched - he had returned to
take some of his stuff.
I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to
him vanished.
I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks again and
again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the physical
examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the
baby, I told them No, I will not. I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps
it is my way of repaying mother for causing her death.
One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in the living room. The whole
house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee table, there was this
piece of paper. I know what it is all about without even looking at it.
In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find
peace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You wait a
while, I will sign." He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like
mine. As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you
cannot cry..." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out
from there.
After I hung up my coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I
smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pulled the paper towards me.
Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed the
paper to him.
LD, are you pregnant?"
Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could not
control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops. I said:
"Yes, but its ok, you can leave now." He did not go, in the dark, we sat,
facing each other.
Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket.
In my heart,
everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I could never
reach them. I cannot remember how many times he repeated "sorry" to me,
had originally thought that I would forgive him, but now I can't.
In the western restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look in his
eyes, I will never forget, ever. We have drawn such deep scares in each
other's heart. For me, its unintentional; for him, totally intentional.
I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realized now,
what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.
Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth to
my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys
for me, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him.
>From the moment I signed on that piece of paper,
marriage and love had
vanished from my heart.
Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, I
will walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in mother's
room. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept
quiet. This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would
fake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he
would then grab me and laugh. He has forgotten that last time I cared for
him and am concerned because there is love, but now, what is there between
us?
Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing but i continuously ignored him.
Almost everyday, he would buy something for the baby, infant products,
children products and books that kids like to read. Bags and bags of it
stacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is trying to use this to
reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions. He has no choice
but to lock himself in his room and I can hear his typing away on his
computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web surfing, but none of that
matters to me anymore.
It was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one late
night, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing into
the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for
this moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holding
my hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brow, throughout the
journey to the hospital. Once we reached the hospital, he carried me and
hurried into the delivery suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmth
body, a thought crossed my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me as
much as he did?
He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyes
caused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain.
Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son, and me, his eyes
tear with joy and he kept smiling. I reached out and touched his hand. Hubby
looked at me, smiling and then he slowly collapsed onto the floor. I cried
out for him in pain... He smiled, but without opening that tired eyes of
his... I had thought that I would never shed any tear for him, but the truth
is, I have never felt a deeper pain cutting through my body at that moment.
Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it was
already in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last this
long. I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctor
said about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral."
I disregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room
and checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me. Hubby's cancer was
discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and I had thought that...
the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrote for our son: "Son, just
for you, I have persisted, to be able to take a look at you before I fall,
is my biggest wish now... I know that in your life, you will have many
happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only can accompany you throughout that
journey, how nice would it be. But daddy now no long has that chance. Daddy
has written inside here all the possible difficulties and problems you may
encounter during your lifetime, when you meet with these problems, you can
refer to daddy's suggestion.. . Son, after writing these 200 thousand words,
I feel as if I have accompanied you through your life journey. To be honest,
daddy is very happy. Do love your mother, she has suffered, she is the one
who loves you most and also the one who loves me most..."
>From play school to primary school, to secondary,
university, to work and
even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small was written
there.
Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I
have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want
to see you be in a joyful mood waiting for the arrival of our baby... My
dear, if you cried, it means that you have forgiven me and I would smile,
thank you for loving me... These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to
our son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him every
year, the dates on what to give when are all written on the packaging... "
Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma. I brought our son over
and place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our son
to remember being in the warmth of your arms..."
He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in his
arms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on the
camera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears slowly
rolled down my face...
A fatal misunderstanding and the person who love me the most in this world
is gone forever.
Author unknown.
