A fatal misunderstanding and the person who loved 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 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
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 her view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife? At
the breakfast table, mother's 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 then 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 whom 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 failing 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.
hat 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 choose 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 was 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. 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 out 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 kept 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 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 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 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, and then at hubby,
stood 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 went for my medical checkups
alone, my heart broke 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 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: "Wait for 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 to 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, 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;
in the past, whenever I ignored him, he would fake illness. I will
surrender and find out what was wrong with him, he would then
grabbed me and laughed. 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 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 was full. I knew he was trying to use this to reach out to me,
but I was no longer moved by his actions.
He has no choice but to lock himself in his room. I can hear him
typing away on his computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted
toweb 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 warm
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 watched me enter, 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 I, his eyes cried 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
was, 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,
and it was already in terminal stage. 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 hit 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 longer 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
important and insignificant 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 wanted 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 was still in coma. I brought our
son over and placed 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 was still in his arms and happily waving his tiny hands in
the air when I pressed the button on the camera and the sound of
the shutter rang thought the air as tears slowly rolled down my
face...
