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 does 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 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! (By Lola Onabowale)
