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Sunday, December 02, 2007

A very touching Story.....

I received this in an email, I decided to post it here coz it really touched my heart and I want to share with everyone.


IT'S BETTER TO LOSE YOUR PRIDE TO THE ONE YOU LOVE,
THAN TO LOSE THE ONE YOU LOVE BECAUSE OF PRIDE.


TOTAL MARITAL MISCOMMUNICATION!!
This is a true story,dictated by the person who
experienced all the pains and trials).

Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted
the blissful footsteps ofour 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 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 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 wa kes 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 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 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 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 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
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 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; 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 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 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 c aused 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 tha! t 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 al! l 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...

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