My Husband Killed Himself

Just two years after our marriage, my husband brought up the idea of asking his Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years
with us. His father passed away while he was still very young. His mum endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him through to
the university. You could say that she suffered a great deal and did everything you could
expect or imagine of a woman to bring hubby to where he is today. I immediately agreed and started preparing 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,
he lifted me up and started spinning round and round. As I begged him to
put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother".

Just two years after our marriage, my husband brought up the idea of asking
his Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years
with us. His father passed away while he was still very young. His mum
endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him through to
the university. You could say that she suffered a great deal and did everything you could
expect or imagine of a woman to bring hubby to where he is today. I immediately agreed and started preparing 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, he lifted me up and started
spinning round and round. As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets gofetch mother". Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to rest my head on his chest and enjoy
the feeling that he could pick me up at any moment, put me as smallish as I am into his pocket.
Whenever we have an argument and one of us refuses to back out, he would lift me up and
spin me over his head continuously until I surrender as I 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, what do you buy flowers for? You also can't eat flowers!" I will smile and say,: "Mum, with flowers in the
house, our mood will also become better." Mother will grumble away, and my
husband will smile and tell her:

"Mum, this is how it is in the city and with time you will get use to it". Mother
will stop murmuring. But thereafter, whenever I came home with
flowers, she would ask me how much it costs. I will tell her the price and she
would shake her head and express displeasure. Sometimes, when I come
home with lots of shopping bags, she would demand to know the price for each and every
item, I would tell her honestly and she would get even more upset about it.. Hubby playfully
pinched my nose one day and said: "You little fool, just don't tell her the full price of
everything and that would would solve the
problem." This sparked the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle and home.
Mother hates it most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast. In
her 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 have
noticed that. She would use her chopsticks or cutlery to make a lot of noise as
her silent protest.
As a dance teacher in the Children's Palace where i work, I come home
exhausted from a long day of dancing around, and 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 with the aim of selling them later
on, and at the end, the house is filled with all forms of trash bags; she would
spill on the dishes, 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 washing the dishes, and
"Bam" she slams her bedroom door and cried
very loudly in her room. Hubby was placed in a difficult position as to whose side he should be on, 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?" He 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 with me

and you can feel that there is a very awkward
feeling hanging in the house.
During the period of the cold war, hubby was
caught in a 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 informing or discussing with any of us.
At the breakfast table, mother would look at
her son happily as he eats his breakfast and
she'll 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 feelings of unfairness
overwhelmed me..
After some time, hubby sighed: "LD, just for
me, can we have breakfast together at home?"
I am left with no choice but to return to the
breakfast table.
The next morning, I was having porridge
prepared by his 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, 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 to put 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 lost appetite for food,
coupled with all the events
happening at home, I was then at a 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 was
pregnant.
Now it became clear to me why I threw up that
fateful morning, a sense of
sadness flooded my soul through that otherwise
happy news. Why didn't
husband, or his 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 raggard.
I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look
at him and my heart soften, I
couldn't resist and I called out to him. He
followed my voice and finally found
me but he pretended 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 as he's fond of.
What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in
the cab, my tears started rolling
down. Why? Why couldn't our love 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 saw
at the hospital. I cried out and soaked the
pillow with my tears.
That night, the sound of drawers opening in our
room woke me up. I switched
on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling
down his face. He was
removing all the money he had kept in there. 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 started
streaming down again.
The next day, I did not go to work.. I wanted

to clear this out and have a good
talk with him. 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 them,
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, he did not say a single
word to me, with only the
occasional disgusted stare he gives. I only
managed to find out brief facts
about the accident from other people. That day,
after mother left the house, she
walked away 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 knocking 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.
Back in the house he moved into mother's room
and came home every night
with a strong liquor smell on him. Me, I was
buried under the guilt and self-pity
as a result of his mum's death 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, he came
home late and late. The deadlock between us
continued, we were living together like strangers
who didn't know each other. I am like the dead
knot in his heart.
One day, I passed by a western restaurant,
looking through the glass, I saw him and a girl
sitting facing each other and he litely brushed
her hair for her, I
understood what that action meant
immediately. After recovering from that
moment of shock, I entered the restaurant,
stood in front of my him and stared
hard at him, not a tear in my eyes. I have
nothing to say to him, and there was
no need to say anything. The girl looked at me,
looks at him, stood up to walk
away , but my husband restrained her from
doing so. He stared back at me,
challenging me.. I can only hear my heart
beating slowly, beat after beat as if
I'm about taking my last breath. I eventually
backed out, if I had stood there
any longer, I would have collapsed together
with the baby inside me. That night, he did not
come home; he had chosen to use that as a way
to sending a message to me:
Following his 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 wardrobe had
been touched - he had returned to
take some of his belonging. 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 advised me to consider
aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not.. I
insisted on having the baby, perhaps it is my
way of repaying his
mother for causing her death.
One day, I came home and I saw him sitting in
the living room. The whole
house was filled with cigarette smoke. On the
coffee table, was lying this piece
of paper. I immediately knew what it is all
about without even looking at it to
read it's content.
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, wit with mixed
feelings in his eyes, just like mine.
As I hang up my coat, I kept repeating to
myself "You cannot cry, you cannot
cry..." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to
let tears out.
After I hung up my coat, his eyes fixed at my
bulging tummy with a stare. 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?" He spurt
out. Since mother's accident,
this is the first time he speaking 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.
He slowly moved over me, his
tears wet his dress. In my heart, everything
seems so far away, even if I sprint, I could
never reach them. I cannot remember how many
times he repeatedly said "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, never ever. We have caused such
deep scars in each other's heart.
For me, it's unintentional; for him, totally and
absolutely intentional.
I had been waiting for this moment of
reconciliation, but I realized now, that
what had gone past is gone forever and could
not be undone.
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 nor take
any presents from him, I also stopped talking
to him. From the
moment I signed on that piece of paper,
marriage and love had vanished from
my heart. Sometimes, he will try to come into
our bedroom, but when he walks
in, I will walk out to the living room. He had no
choice but to sleep in his
mother's room. At night, from his room, I can
hear sounds of groaning, I kept
quiet... This used to be his trick; when all was
well between us, 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 was
the last time I cared for him and I showed
concern because there was love, but
now, what is there between us? Hubby's groaning
came on and off consistently 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 was full. I
knew he was trying to use this to reach out to
me, but I was no longer moved by his actions.
He has no choice but to lock himself in his room
and I can hear him 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,
he came rushing into the room,
its like he did not change from his office cloth
to sleep, but had been waiting for this moment.
He carried me and ran down the stairs,
stopped a cab, 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 filled
with tears of joy as he kept smiling.
I reached out and touched his hand. He 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 heart at that moment. The doctor said by
the time they discovered he had he had

liver cancer, it was already in the 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 not to leave
the ward and rushed home, I
went into his room and checked his computer,
and a suffocating pain hits me.
His cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his
groaning was real, I thought ...
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's
journey. To be honest, daddy is very happy. Do
love your mum, she has suffered a lot, 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.
He has also written a letter for me: "My dear,
to marry you was my biggest
happiness, forgive me for the pain I have
caused you, forgive me for not telling
you about my illness, because I wanted to see
you 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... For all these presents, I'm
afraid I cannot give them to our son
personally, could you pls help me in giving
some of them to him every year, the dates are
on what to be given and when to
give are all written on the packaging... "
Going back to the hospital, my husband was still
in coma. I brought our son
over and placed 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
the other disrupted the
blissful footsteps of our family. Our original
intent of having his 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 real and true life story.
.
LEARNING POINT - DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO
OFFENCES!!!