I like this story so much; the lack of communication and understanding can destroy a relationship and love.. Berdoa kepada Allah semoga berkekalan hendaknya kemanisan hidup kami sekeluarga dari musibah dan ketabahan hati menjalani hidup ini.. Insha Allah.
This is a wonderful and touching story of a Shanghai couple. I
t can happen to any of us.
#Moral of the story...let's not be blinded by that moment of anger...there is no shame to seek forgiveness and to give forgiveness. Its worth your time to read the story till the end.Enjoy... the reading
This is a true story, taken from "Family" (dictated by LD, edited by LSX, translated by SaFe).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cruel 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, everything became too late.
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 medown,he said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and Ilove to rest on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me upat any moment put the tiny me into his pockets. Whenever we have anargument and both refuses to back down, he would pick me up and spin meover 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. Forexample; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room, shecould not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you youngpeople spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eatthe flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, ourmood will also become better." Mother continues to grumble away, andhubby smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people's habit; slowly you will getuse to it."
Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever Icame home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs. I told herand she would shake her head and express displeasure. Sometimes, whenI come home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every itemhow much they cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get evenmore upset about it. Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "Youlittle fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything wouldsolve 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 thebreakfast table, mother facial _expression is always like the dark cloudsbefore a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice. She would useher chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest. AsI 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 thatadditional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned adeaf ear to all the protest mother makes.
From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soonher help created additional work for me. For example: she would keepall kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so that she sell them lateron, 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 dishesand so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash they 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 wasplaced in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak to mefor that entire night. I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried actingcute, 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? Wecouldn'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 tome and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in thehouse. During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as towho to please.
In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother tookon the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting. Atthe breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his breakfastand cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my dutyas a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted tobuying my own breakfast on my way to work.
That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me:"LD,is itbecause you think that mum's cooking is not clean that's why you chose notto eat at home?" He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears asfeeling 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 butto return to the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt asudden 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. Ithrew down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everythingout. Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumblingvery loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorwaystaring at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no wordscame out of it, I really didn't mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, thenstood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a finalstare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I wasso furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best and puttingup with her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep havingthe feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupledwith all the events happening at home, I was at the low point in my life.Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible, you should go and see adoctor."
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why Ithrew up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise happy news. Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been throughthis 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 beenthree days, but he looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but onelook at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him. Hefollowed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that he doesn't knowme; 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, Ihave such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I amhaving your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me round in circles ofjoy. What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears startedrolling down. Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of onefight? Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and thedisgusted 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 thelights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face. He was removingthe money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank depositbook and some money and left the house. Maybe he really intends to leave mefor good. What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. Igave 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 havea good talk with hubby. I reached his office and his secretary gave me aweird look and said: "Mr. Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is nowin 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 notlook at me, his face was expressionless.
I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control thetears in my eyes. My god, how could this happen? Throughout the funeral,hubby did say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgustedstare at me. I only managed to find out brief facts about the accidentfrom other people. That day, after mother left the house, she walked indazed toward the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her oldhouse back in the countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walkfaster and as she tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hither...
I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown upthat 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 strongliquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self pityand could hardly breathe. I wanted to explain to him, tell him that weare 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 backin. I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scoldingthough none of these events happening had been my fault at all.
Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubbycame home later and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don't know each other. I am like thedead knot in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, Isaw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushedher hair for her, I understood what it meant.
After recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant,stoodin front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I havenothing 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,hubbystretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challengingme. I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at thebrink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, Iwill collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home, he had chosen to use that as a way toindicate 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 homefrom work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched - he had returnedto take some of his stuff.
I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything tohim vanished.
I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks againand again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through thephysical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not. I insisted on having tothis 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 wholehouse was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee table, there was thispiece 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 findpeace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You waita while, I will sign." He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes,justlike mine. As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannotcry, you cannot cry..." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tearscome 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 pull e paper towards me.Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushedthe paper to him.
"LD, you are pregnant?"Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I couldnot 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, wesat, 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 thewestern 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'sheart. For me, its unintentional; for him, totally intentional.
I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realizednow, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.Other thanthe 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, Idon't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him. From themoment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished frommy heart.
Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, Iwill walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in mother'sroom. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I keptquiet. This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he wouldfake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, hewould then grab me and laugh. He has forgotten that last time; I cared forhim and am concerned because there is love, but now, what is there betweenus?
Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing all the way till baby was born.Almost everyday, he would buy something for the baby, infant products,children products and books that kids like to read. Bags and bags of itstacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is trying to use this toreach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions. He has no choicebut to lock himself in his room and I can hear his typing away on hiscomputer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web surfing, but none of thatmatters to me anymore.I
t was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one latenight, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing intothe room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting forthis moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holdingmy hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brown, throughout thejourney to the hospital. Once we reached the hospital, he carried me andhurried into the delivery suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmthbody, a thought crossed my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me asmuch as he did?
He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyescaused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain.
Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son, and me, hiseyes 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 tiredeyes 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 atthat moment.
Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it wasalready in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last thislong. I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctorsaid about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral." Idisregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room andchecked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.
Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and Ihad thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrotefor our son: "Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take alook at you before I fall, is my biggest wish now... I know that in yourlife, you will have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I canaccompany you throughout that journey, how nice would it be. But daddynow no longer has that chance. Daddy has written inside here all thepossible 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 accompaniedyou through your life journey. To be honest, daddy is very happy. Do loveyour mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most and alsothe one who loves me most..."
From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to workand even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small waswritten there.
Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the painI have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because Iwant 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 toour son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him everyyear, 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 overand place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our sonto remember being in the warmth of your arms..."
He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in hisarms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on thecamera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears slowlyrolled down my face...
The end...
This is a wonderful and touching story of a Shanghai couple. I
t can happen to any of us.
#Moral of the story...let's not be blinded by that moment of anger...there is no shame to seek forgiveness and to give forgiveness. Its worth your time to read the story till the end.Enjoy... the reading
This is a true story, taken from "Family" (dictated by LD, edited by LSX, translated by SaFe).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cruel 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, everything became too late.
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 medown,he said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and Ilove to rest on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me upat any moment put the tiny me into his pockets. Whenever we have anargument and both refuses to back down, he would pick me up and spin meover 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. Forexample; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room, shecould not stand it and would comment: "I do not know how you youngpeople spend your money, why do you buy flowers for? You also can't eatthe flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, ourmood will also become better." Mother continues to grumble away, andhubby smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people's habit; slowly you will getuse to it."
Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever Icame home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs. I told herand she would shake her head and express displeasure. Sometimes, whenI come home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every itemhow much they cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get evenmore upset about it. Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "Youlittle fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything wouldsolve 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 thebreakfast table, mother facial _expression is always like the dark cloudsbefore a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice. She would useher chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest. AsI 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 thatadditional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned adeaf ear to all the protest mother makes.
From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soonher help created additional work for me. For example: she would keepall kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so that she sell them lateron, 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 dishesand so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash they 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 wasplaced in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak to mefor that entire night. I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried actingcute, 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? Wecouldn'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 tome and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in thehouse. During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as towho to please.
In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother tookon the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting. Atthe breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his breakfastand cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my dutyas a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted tobuying my own breakfast on my way to work.
That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me:"LD,is itbecause you think that mum's cooking is not clean that's why you chose notto eat at home?" He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears asfeeling 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 butto return to the breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt asudden 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. Ithrew down the bowl and rushed into the washroom and vomited everythingout. Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumblingvery loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorwaystaring at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no wordscame out of it, I really didn't mean it.
We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, thenstood up and slowly made her way out of the house. Hubby gave me a finalstare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.
For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call. I wasso furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best and puttingup with her, what else do you want me to do? For no reason, I keep havingthe feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupledwith all the events happening at home, I was at the low point in my life.Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terrible, you should go and see adoctor."
The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant. Now it became clear to me why Ithrew up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise happy news. Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been throughthis 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 beenthree days, but he looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but onelook at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him. Hefollowed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that he doesn't knowme; 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, Ihave such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I amhaving your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me round in circles ofjoy. What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears startedrolling down. Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of onefight? Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and thedisgusted 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 thelights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face. He was removingthe money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank depositbook and some money and left the house. Maybe he really intends to leave mefor good. What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters. Igave 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 havea good talk with hubby. I reached his office and his secretary gave me aweird look and said: "Mr. Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is nowin 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 notlook at me, his face was expressionless.
I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control thetears in my eyes. My god, how could this happen? Throughout the funeral,hubby did say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgustedstare at me. I only managed to find out brief facts about the accidentfrom other people. That day, after mother left the house, she walked indazed toward the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her oldhouse back in the countryside. As hubby ran after her, she tried to walkfaster and as she tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hither...
I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown upthat 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 strongliquor smell on him. And me, I am buried under the guilt and self pityand could hardly breathe. I wanted to explain to him, tell him that weare 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 backin. I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scoldingthough none of these events happening had been my fault at all.
Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubbycame home later and later. The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don't know each other. I am like thedead knot in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, Isaw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushedher hair for her, I understood what it meant.
After recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant,stoodin front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I havenothing 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,hubbystretched out his hand and stopped her. He stared back at me, challengingme. I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at thebrink of death. I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, Iwill collapse together with the baby inside me.
That night, he did not come home, he had chosen to use that as a way toindicate 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 homefrom work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched - he had returnedto take some of his stuff.
I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything tohim vanished.
I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks againand again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through thephysical examination. My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not. I insisted on having tothis 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 wholehouse was filled with cigarette smoke. On the coffee table, there was thispiece 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 findpeace within myself. I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You waita while, I will sign." He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes,justlike mine. As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannotcry, you cannot cry..." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tearscome 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 pull e paper towards me.Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushedthe paper to him.
"LD, you are pregnant?"Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I couldnot 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, wesat, 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 thewestern 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'sheart. For me, its unintentional; for him, totally intentional.
I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realizednow, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.Other thanthe 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, Idon't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him. From themoment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished frommy heart.
Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, Iwill walk out to the living room. He had no choice but to sleep in mother'sroom. At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I keptquiet. This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he wouldfake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, hewould then grab me and laugh. He has forgotten that last time; I cared forhim and am concerned because there is love, but now, what is there betweenus?
Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing all the way till baby was born.Almost everyday, he would buy something for the baby, infant products,children products and books that kids like to read. Bags and bags of itstacked inside his room till it is full. I know he is trying to use this toreach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions. He has no choicebut to lock himself in his room and I can hear his typing away on hiscomputer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web surfing, but none of thatmatters to me anymore.I
t was sometime towards the end of spring in the following year, one latenight, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing intothe room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting forthis moment. He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holdingmy hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brown, throughout thejourney to the hospital. Once we reached the hospital, he carried me andhurried into the delivery suite. Lying on the back of his skinny but warmthbody, a thought crossed my mind: In my lifetime, who else would love me asmuch as he did?
He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in, his warm eyescaused me to managed a smile at him despite my contraction pain.
Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son, and me, hiseyes 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 tiredeyes 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 atthat moment.
Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it wasalready in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last thislong. I asked the doctor when did he first discover he had cancer? Doctorsaid about 5 months ago and consoled me saying: "Prepare for his funeral." Idisregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room andchecked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.
Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and Ihad thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrotefor our son: "Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take alook at you before I fall, is my biggest wish now... I know that in yourlife, you will have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I canaccompany you throughout that journey, how nice would it be. But daddynow no longer has that chance. Daddy has written inside here all thepossible 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 accompaniedyou through your life journey. To be honest, daddy is very happy. Do loveyour mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most and alsothe one who loves me most..."
From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to workand even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small waswritten there.
Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the painI have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because Iwant 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 toour son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him everyyear, 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 overand place him beside him. I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our sonto remember being in the warmth of your arms..."
He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile. Our son still in hisarms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on thecamera and the sound of the shutter rang thought the air as tears slowlyrolled down my face...
The end...
