What Grudge can do...

an officemate send me this touching story, it's a long one but worth the read. A heartbreaker, does this kind of fate really happens. Read and take time to shed some tears

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
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
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 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 am 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
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 could not. I threw
down the bowl, 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 did not 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 no appetite for food, coupled with all the events happening
at home, I was at then 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 around 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 not 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 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 pulled the
paper towards me. Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on
it and pushed the paper to him. "LD, are you 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 scars in each other's
heart. For me, it's 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 was
love, but now, what is there between us? Hubby's groaning came on and off
continuing but I continuously ignored him.

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 caused me to manage a smile at him despite my contraction
pain. Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son and me, 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 he first discovered 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 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 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 through the air as tears slowly rolled down my face....
A fatal misunderstanding and the person who loves me the most in this world
is gone forever..."Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted the
blissful footsteps to our family. Our originals 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.."..... . ..

This is a true story.

LEARNING POINT - DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO OFFENCES!!!