
I read this true life story
somewhere and I felt compelled to share it with you all
How easy it is for us to get
carried away with our feelings. There's power in communication not holding back
and sincerity.
Just 2 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 endures 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 was 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 "let's 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 we both refuse 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'm so used to buying
flowers to decorate the living room, she could not stand it and would comment,
"I do no know how you young people spend your money, what do you buy
flowers for? You also cannot 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'll get use to it" Mother stopped saying anything, but
every time thereafter, whenever I came home with flowers, she would ask 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 even get
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 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'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'm 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'll 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 the 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 we 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 chorn in my stomach and everything
inside seem to be rushing to my throat, I tried to suppress the urge to throw
up but I couldn't. 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. (To be continued)