MARRIAGE

 

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 ever 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 greying! 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!

If you don’t share this, nothing will happen to you.

If you do, you just might save a marriage.

Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

Kimmies Floral

Loss of a Special Star

Bulelwa

Sadness seem to follow everywhere and strike at anytime. Such was the case yesterday when what should have been a time of celebration, goodwill, joy and happiness, turned out to a parents nightmare.

Today one of my learners, Bulelwa Wayiza, was mowed down by truck in her own neighbourhood. And so a young and promising life violently brought to a halt.

A huge void left in the hearts of parents, a family, friends and classmates, teachers and many others.
Now we will now longer feel and see the sunshine of your smile, the warmth of your hugs and beauty of the voice of this radiant songbird.

We will never cheer you on when your dream of being a famous singer comes true or your graduation after varsity or a beautiful bride at your white wedding.

How I wish to just once be able to mockingly ask you to shush, to bring the dirt bin so you could spit your bubble-gum or to to give you a hug simply because you asked. How I wish to hear your voice humming or belting out beautiful Xhosa songs in in the middle of class being in progress and saying ‘Sorry Juffrou’ flashing your gorgeous smile.

The world is a much poorer place without the sunshine that was Bulelwa.

We will remember you…
Forever singing
Forever smiling
Forever young
You were not for this world
God has a bigger plan for you
Rest easy my little songbird
Enjoy your stay with the angels…
Because that is where you belong..

A time for guilt

 Time is precious. Something we should value and appreciate and never take for granted. So be grateful for the time you spend with loved ones, because you could loose them at any time.

Today a very dear friend of mine lost her mother and she was fortunate enough to have done much for her mother before her mother’s passing. Thus she has no guilt and no regrets.

 Her siblings are not as fortunate, they will live, hopefully if the feel at an inkling for their departed mother and surviving father, guilt ridden and ful of regrets for many a day to come.

Despite them living minutes from her parents she would be the one to come all the way from another continent to come do for and be there do both her mother and father.
So now she is the one being able to be together and be the one to do and manage all that need to be done.

Guilt can be debilitating and no guilt liberating.

 

So u can choose long before loosing those precious to you, whether it is to death or simply to another life, whether you want to feel debilitated or liberated.

The slumbering dragon arises once more

Conflict is my new friend. It is constant pushing, tugging and pulling. An internal battle of wills; a battle between going back, being stagnant or moving forward. Bringing questions of why? Why now? Why not? Why still? What next? and how?
Why does it feel like everything is crashing. Drowning in layers of discomfort and uncertainty. Smothered by constant dosages of pain and tears. Unwanted and inopportune.
Feelings of desperation sets in. Old buried feelings that instill real fear. Current and intense.
Fear of the desires that are rearing their ugly heads at a time when there should be no need and space for them. A time that should hold only promise, with no accomodation for pain, fear, hurt, tears and uncertainty.
But slowly they have been resurfacing. First just ever so slightly and subtly. Increasing almost unnoticably, stealthilly like spies on a covert but deadly mission. Deadly with far reaching repercussions.
And now a full onslaught have been launched. With no intention of taking prisoners. Only total annihilation will be accepted.
Is this a battle worth fighting, I ask? Or is it futile. Am I a worthy adversary for this raging war that has unwillingly awakened from its slumber? Is taking a stand delusional? Do I stand a chance against this slumbering dragon who too often lifts its head to spew flames of despair on my life. Is it worth fighting? Do I even have a hope of victory?

I have a been at this my entire life. With little vacations in between. Vacations that would not only allow time to regroup, but also time in which a false sense of victory are created, nourished and nurtured.

But this time the dark force is striking with a greater vengeance than ever before. It has blood thirsty need for pain, hurt, sorrow and tears. Like it wants to drain your very life essence. Until what is left is nothing but an empty, useless,worthless shell. Devoid of substance, beauty, laughter, pleasure and joy. All that will remain is
NOTHING…

I do not want to be nothing.

Surrender, Concede, Capitulate

So I got angry because I felt excluded, sidelined, marginalised and ignored. Yes I felt  all these things and before I would have understood. Before I would have knows he is preoccupied and stressed. Before I would have waited it out. Things will return to normal and he would be in my space again. Tomorrow things would have calmed down and all will be as it were.

But tomorrow is not to be. It belongs to another. Another is holding her breath and looking forward to tomorrow.  I will have to wait till the next day and hope that the next day will not also pan out as today did. Will not also end up being lost, alone and empty. Because other more urgent matters arise.

And then little gremlins start popping up. Start whispering like vicious little devils in your ears. Whispers that creates pain and fear and discontent. Everything start looking like something. Nothing start looking like something. Something that you are not getting, that you do not have.Something that wish for and desire and longs for. You feel cheated and robbed. Robbed of what is yours and what is your right. And she is not to blame. It is her right too, yet she seem to be so gracious about everything and I’m everything but. Is there even anyone to be blamed?  No! No blame. Just demons screaming in your heart and creating noise in your head. And you pain. So much that you have an intense desire to just close up and shut down, for if you close up and shut down, you do not feel. And if you do not feel, you cannot hurt. You cannot pain.

Time has become your worst enemy. Your primary source of fear. Fear of loneliness and fear of becoming obsolete. Yesterday’s news. Redundant and old. You know the  reality is that it is not so, but these damn devils keep whispering, screaming, making you hear. Forcing you to listen.

So you sit down and you try to be sensible and rational. He does love you, you know that. She puts you first as well. You know that too.

So why the doubt?  

Why the lack of faith?

Why do I need so much reassurance and reaffirmation?

Is it because of past trust issues and past insecurities? Why can I not trust and believe without any doubt?  Why am I so careful? Is it fear of getting hurt by those you think and believe love you?  In the past you were also loved. Or so you thought. There were hidden, selfish and painful agendas. That hurt, crippled, and near destroyed you.

But that was then. Now is different. You won that battle and annihilated the enemy. Victory was yours!!! So why do you still feel fear and pain. Is it just a bad habit? A habit that wont die. I feel like giving up. Letting everything go and giving everything freedom. Freedom to do  and say and make without me. Without having to consider me and complicate things. Because I am damaged, irreparable, corrupted and lost. I should be cut loose before anyone else get pulled down by me.

Am I asking too much? Do I even have the right to ask or to expect, to want, to need, to wish. Maybe not. Maybe never.

So I will just stick to the familiar which brings me to the bottom line.

And that bottom line is…

I am never to be happy .

Never to be content.

Never to be at peace.

Maybe my contentment lies elsewhere and is not due now. So will stop trying and just wait.

So I will wait…

I am ready…

For the past week I have been grappling with my health. My one kidney struggling to do its job resulting in toxemia. I have forgotten how ill you can feel when struggling with renal problems. The constant nausea, headaches, dizziness and tiredness. Before I didn’t quite realise the seriousness of  having renal problems, but as I am now getting older I have come to the realisation that I can and would probably die of renal failure unless something else comes up before then. And it will. I know that. I have always felt that old age was not something I should look forward to. Longevity was not part  of my life plan or path.

Which made me reflect on many things. And then I remembered what someone , well more than one person actually, had asked me. When I , we, embarked on this journey or a polygamous marriage and I informed those I felt needed to know, I was asked whether I was dying. I was a bit surprised if not a little perturbed by this very unexpected question. “Why are you asking me that?” was my confused response.  “Well”, I was informed, “It seem as though you are getting things in place for your family for when you not there anymore. Someone to be a wife for your husband and a mother to your children. Obviously someone you trust and know will be good for your family.” Needless to say I totally dispelled any such notion to the extent that I found this kind of paranoia funny and laughable.

However now 5 months down the line, and having been really sick for the first time in years, I find myself questioning my mortality. Questioning the journey Allah has put me on. Questioning how building blocks have been laid down seemingly in isolation, over an extended period of time. But upon reflection and retrospection all these random and isolated instances and emotional growth and movement seem anything but random and isolated. They seem to be part of an elaborate and covert plan architected by a higher power with a vision that is obscured from  to us.

Question is: Am I that special that Allah would afford me the gift of having the peace of mind that those I love is taken care of and are all together to be a support to each other when I no longer walk this earth. Maybe this is the reward for all my pain and suffering all of my life.  I believe in a fair and benevolent Creator and if this elaborate plan indeed is the gift of peace of mind than the benevolence of my Allah is confirmed and I regard myself special, chosen and lucky.

In in that light I want to say thank you. Thank you Allah for caring enough for me to do all of this for me. I stand before you ready and waiting for whatever the next journey is that you taking me on. Be it longevity or death. I am ready…