Speak up.. your silence is killing me.
Run baby Run..
A thousand miles...
You and I... ♥
An e-mail from my aunty from Canada.
read this story until the end.
It is such an eye opener.
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 greenery.
Hubby stood in the bright room,
and suddenly just picked me up
and started spinning me
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 rest on his chest
and enjoy the feeling
that he could pick me up
at any moment
to 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 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 am 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 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 could not.
I threw down the bowl,
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 did not 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 hailed 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 stared 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 not 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 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 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 continued,
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,
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 eye.
I have nothing to say to him,
and there is no need to say anything.
The girl looked at me,
looked 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 fall.
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,
is 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.
I 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,
will haunt me forever.
We have drawn such deep scars in each other's heart.
I had been waiting for
this moment of reconciliation,
but now I realized,
what had gone past is gone forever
and will never come back.
I was very 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.
Sometimes,
at night,
from his room,
I can hear light sounds of groaning.
This used to be his trick;
whenever I ignore him,
he would fake illness
and I will surrender
to find out what is wrong with him,
he would then grab me and laugh.
Hubby's groaning came
on and off continuously.
Almost everyday,
he would buy something for the baby,
infant products,
and children's books.
Bags and bags of it
stacked inside his room.
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 him typing away,
maybe he is now addicted to web surfing
but none of that matters to me anymore.
It was some time,
towards the end of Spring
in the following year,
one late night,
a sudden stomach pain caused me to scream.
hubby came rushing into the room,
its like he did not sleep,
and had been waiting for this moment.
He carried me
and ran down the stairs,
stopped a car,
holding my hand very tightly ,
hroughout the journey to the hospital.
At the hospital,
he carried me
and hurried into the delivery suite.
Lying down,
a thought crossed my mind.
who else would love me as much as he did?
Coming out of the delivery room,
hubby looked at our son and me,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...
e smiled,
but without opening his eyes.
I have never felt a deeper pain
cutting through my body at that moment.
Doctor said
when he finally discovered he had liver cancer,
5months ago,
it was already in terminal stage
and it was a miracle
that he managed to last this long.
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:
"just for you,
I have persisted,
to be able to take a look at you
before I fall..."
I know that in your life,
you will have many happiness
and maybe some setbacks,
if only I can accompany you
throughout that journey,
how nice would it be..
But daddy now no longer has this chance.
Do love your mother,
she has suffered,
she is the one who loves you most
and also the one who loved 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 is written here.
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
thank you for loving me..."
These presents,
I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son
personally,
could you help me to give them to him
every year on his birthday.
At the hospital,
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.
A fatal misunderstanding
and the person
who loves me the most in this world
has gone..
forever.
misunderstandings
one after another
disrupted the blissful footsteps to our family.
Our original intend of having Mother
enjoy some quiet and peaceful moments
in her remaining years with us
went terribly wrong
as destiny's secret is finally revealed
at a price,
every thing became too late.
This is a true story.
LEARNING POINT -
DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO GRUDGES.
I am totally speechless,
this story brought tears to my eyes
as I read through each line
eager to know what would happen next.
It truly showed
the devastating power of grudges and anger!
Simple humility
and communication would have resolved
most of the problems in that story,
as well as patience....
In life,
offenses are inevitable.
But holding a grudge is a choice we consciously make.
Learn to LET GO....
To forgive others is to forgive YOURSELF.
Nobody is perfect.
♥♥♥
