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Part 1...
A fatal misunderstanding and the person who love me
the most in this world is gone forever.
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, every thing 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 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 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 country-side 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 I 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 a long 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
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
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 the 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 round 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 country-side. 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.
Part 2 and end...
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 pull the paper towards me. Without even
looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and
pushed the paper to him.
"LD, you are 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 seem 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 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
have 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 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 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 brown,
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 me and our son, 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 I
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...
The end...
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