When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand
and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly.
Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn’t know how
to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a
divorce. I raised the topic calmly.
She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?
I
avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the
chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t
talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what
had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory
answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I
just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce
agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30%
stake of my company.
She glanced at it and then tore it into
pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become
a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I
could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally
she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see.
To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which
had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The
next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at
the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell
asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.
When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
In
the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn’t want
anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She
requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a
life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a
month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken
marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more,
she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our
wedding day.
She requested that every day for the month’s
duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning.
I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together
bearable I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife’s
divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No
matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said
scornfully.
My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my
divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on
the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us,
daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of
pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked
over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said
softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat
upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to
work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us
acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the
fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman
carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There
were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had
taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On
the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy
returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.
On
the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was
growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry
her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me
stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on
quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed,
all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown
so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our
son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To
him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential
part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged
him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change
my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from
the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand
surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was
just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me
sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a
step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t
noticed that our life lacked intimacy.
I drove to office… jumped
out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay
would make me change my mind… I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door
and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.
She
looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a
fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I
won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I
didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each
other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on
our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.
Jane
seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed
the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.
At
the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife.
The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote,
I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.
My
wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to
even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me
from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru
with the divorce –At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving
husband…
The small details of
your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the
mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an
environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in
themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little
things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy
marriage!
No comments:
Post a Comment