the real mess up...

Thisis for all the singles, married, divorced, widowed individuals, who take life for granted..
>
>
> Please,read this story until the end, it is such an opener.
>
> You never Know.........!
>
> 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 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
> 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 along 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 not 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 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 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, every thing became
> too late.".........
>
> This is a true story.
>
>
>
> LEARNING
> POINT - DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO OFFENCES!!!
> I am totally speechless, this story brought tears to my
> eyes as I read through each line eager to know what would
> happen next. It truly showed the devastating power of
> grudges and anger! Simple humility and communication would
> have resolved most of the problems in that story, as well as
> patience.... This story has really touched my heart and life
> as a whole and it has stimulated a paradigm shift. Though it
> is very sad, it is also very refreshing to know that from
> today, I can consciously start to live a life free of
> grudge. People please let's live a life devoid of
> grudge. Communication is the key.
>
> Take greatest care and live on.
>
the cupboard had been touched - he had returned to