I hate it that’s what I always whisper in my heart almost during our togetherness. Although married her, I never really gave my heart to her Married because of coercion of parents, makes me hate my husband.
Though I hate him, every day I serve him as my wife’s duty. I have to do everything because I have no other hand. Some times the desire arises to leave but I do not have the financial ability and support of anyone. Both people my parents are very fond of my husband because according to them, my husband is the perfect husband figure for their only daughter.
When I married, I became a very spoiled wife. I do everything as I please. My husband also spoiled me in such a way. I have never really served my duties as a wife. I always depend on her because I consider it to be after what she did to me. I have given my life to him so that his duty is to make me happy by obeying all my wishes.
In our house I am the queen. No one dared to resist. If there is a slight problem, I always blame my husband. I do not like his wet towel put on the bed, I’m annoyed to see him put the remaining spoon stirring milk on the table and leave sticky marks, I hate when he uses my computer though just to finish his job. I’m angry if he hung his shirt on my dress capstock , I was also angry that if she put on toothpaste without squashing it neatly, I was angry if she contacted me so many times when I was having fun with my friends.
At first I chose not to have children. Although it does not work, but I do not want to take care of the child. Initially he supports and I also have family planning with pills. But apparently he hid his wish so deeply that one day I forgot to take birth control pills and even though he knew he let it. I became pregnant and only realized after more than four months, even doctor refused to abort it.
That’s my greatest anger. Anger grew when I was pregnant with twins and had to have a difficult birth. I forced her to do a vasectomy so I would not get pregnant again. Obediently he did everything I wanted because I threatened to leave him with our two children.
Time passed until the children did not feel the eighth birthday. As early as the morning before, I woke up the very last. Husbands and children were waiting for me at the dinner table. As usual, it was she who provided breakfast and took the children to school. That day, she reminded me that it was my mother’s birthday. I just answered with a nod without regard to the words that reminded the events of the previous year, when I chose to the mall and not present at the show mother. Well, because I feel stuck with my marriage, I also hate my parents.
Before going to the office, my husband usually kissed my cheek and followed the children. But that day, he also hugged me so the children teased his father with a fuss. I tried to shrug and release his embrace. Although finally smile with the children. He kissed me several times in front of the door, as if it was hard to leave.
When they left, I decided to go to the salon. Spending time to salon is my hobby. I arrived at my salon a few hours later. In the salon I met one of my friends as well as someone I did not like. We chatted excitedly including showing each other our activities. It was time for me to pay the salon bill, but to my surprise I realized that my wallet was left at home. Despite reaching my bag to the deepest part I did not find it in my bag. While trying to remember what happened to my wallet I could not find I called my husband and asked.
“Sorry dear, yesterday Farhan asked for snack money and I do not have a small money then I took from your wallet. I forgot to put it back in your bag, I think I put it on my desk. ”
She said softly.
In anger, I scolded him harshly. I hung up without waiting finished. Shortly afterwards, my handphone went off again and though still irritated, I lifted it with a half snap. “What else?”
“Honey, I’m home now, I’ll grab a wallet and drive it to you. Honey now is where? “My husband asked quickly, worried I hang up the phone again. I mentioned my salon name and without waiting for the answer again, I hung up again. I talked to the cashier and said that my husband would come to pay my bill.
The owner Salon my best friend actually already let me go and said I can pay it later if I go back again. But the embarrassment because my “enemy” also heard me behind the wallet made me prestige to owe first.
It was raining when I looked out and hoped my husband’s car would soon be up. The minute passed into the clock, I was getting impatient so started calling my husband’s cell phone. There’s no answer even though I’ve called him many times. In fact, it usually only rings twice that my phone has picked up. I started to feel bad and angry.
My call was picked up after several attempts. When the sound of my scream has not come out yet, a strange voice answered my husband’s phone. I was silent for a moment before the stranger’s voice introduced himself, “Good afternoon, mom. Is the wife’s mother from Mr. Armandi? “I answered the question immediately. The stranger was a policeman, he told me that my husband had an accident and he was being taken to the police hospital. At that time I was silent and only said thank you. When the phone closed, I squatted in confusion. My hands tightly clasped my handphone and some salon clerks approached me swiftly to ask what was wrong with my face being as pale as paper.
Somehow I finally got to the hospital. I wonder how the whole family was there after me. I’m just silent a thousand languages waiting for my husband in front of the emergency room. I do not know what to do because all this time he has done everything for me. When finally after waiting for a few hours, just when I call the maghrib adzan a doctor came out and delivered the news. My husband was gone. He went not because of the accident itself, it was the stroke that caused his death. After hearing the fact, I was busy trying to strengthen both my parents and the shocked parents. There was no tears in my eyes. I was busy calming my father and mother-in-law. The beaten children hugged me tightly but their grief did not make me cry.
When the body was brought home and I sat in front of him, I stared at the face. I realized this was the first time I had actually looked at his face that seemed to fall asleep. I approached her face and looked at it carefully. It was then that my chest became congested with what he had given me during our ten years of togetherness. I gently touched his cool face and realized this was the first time I had touched his face which had always been adorned with a warm smile. The tears reverberated in my eyes, blurring my eyes. I gasped myself trying to wipe the tears out of my last glance at her, I wanted to remember all the parts of her face so that the sweet memories of my husband would not end. But instead of stopping, my tears grew rapidly over my cheeks.
The commemoration of the imam of the mosque arranging the funeral procession could not stop me from crying. I tried to restrain him, but my chest tightened to remember what I had done to him the last time we spoke.
I remembered how I had never noticed his health. I hardly ever manage to eat. Though he always set what I eat. She noticed the vitamins and medicines I had to take especially when it was pregnant and after childbirth. He never absent reminded me to eat regularly, sometimes even feed me when I’m lazy to eat. I never knew what he was eating because I never asked. In fact I do not know what he likes and dislikes. Almost the whole family knows that my husband is a fan of instant noodles and thick coffee. I’m crazy to hear it, because I know he might be forced to eat instant noodles because I hardly ever cook for him. I just cook for the kids and myself. I do not care if he has eaten or not when he came home from work. He can eat my cooking only if left. I went home late every day because the office was quite far from home. I never responded to his request to move closer to his office because I did not want to get far from where my friends live.
At the funeral, I could not help myself. I fainted when I saw his body disappearing alongside the pile of land that was hoarding. I did not know anything until I woke up in my big bed. I woke up feeling regretfully filling my chest cavity. My big family cajoled me in vain because they never knew why I was so hurt to lose her.
The days I lived after his departure were not the freedoms I had always wanted but I was caught in the desire to be with him. In the early days of his departure, I sat staring at the empty plate. Father, mother and mother-in-law persuaded me to eat. But all I remember is when my husband persuades me to eat when I’m taunting. When I forgot to bring a towel in my bath, I yelled for him as usual and when my mother came, I crouched crying in the bathroom hoping he was coming. My habit of calling him whenever I can not do something at home, leaving his coworkers confused with my phone. Every night I waited for her in the bedroom and wished the next morning I woke up with her figure next to me.
I used to be so upset when I heard the sound of snoring, but now I even wake up to hear it again. I was annoyed because he often messed up in our bedroom, but now I feel our bedroom was empty and hollow. he did the job and left it on my laptop without logging out, now I look at the computer, wiping the keys hoping his fingers are still left there. I used to dislike him making coffee without a cushion on the table, now his leftovers in his last breakfast he did not want to get rid of. The television remote that she usually hides, now easily found even though I wish I could replace her loss with a remote loss. All the ignorance I do because I just realized that he loves me and I’ve been hit by the arrows of his love.
I’m also angry with myself, I’m angry because everything looks normal even though he’s gone. I’m angry because his clothes are still there leaving the smell that makes me miss. I was angry because I could not stop all my regrets. I was angry because no one else persuaded me to calm down, no one reminded me of prayer even though now I do sincerely. I prayed because I wanted to apologize, apologize to God for wasting my husband who was blessed with me, asking for forgiveness for being a bad wife to a husband so perfect.Solatlah is able to remove my grief little by little. God’s love for me is shown by so much attention from the family for me and the children. My friends who had been defending me, almost never showed their nose after the departure of my husband.
Forty days after his death, the family reminded me to rise from adversity. There were two children waiting for me and I had to live. Again confusion came into me. All this time I knew it was all right and never worked. All done my husband. How much of his income so far I never care, which I care only the amount of dollars that he transferred to my account for my personal use and every month the money almost never left. From the office where he works, I get the last salary and bonus compensation. When I saw it I was silent unexpected, it turns out all his salary transferred to my account for this.Padahal I never use for a household utilities. I do not know where he got other money to meet the needs of the household because I never asked even though that matter. I know now I have to work or my children will not be able to live because the last salary amount and bonus compensation will not be enough to support the three of us. But where to work?
I hardly ever had any experience at all. Everything is always arranged by him. My confusion was answered some time later. My father came with a notary. He brings a lot of documents. Then the notary gives a letter. The husband’s statement that he left all his wealth to me and the children, he accompanied his mother in the letter but which made me unable to say anything is the contents of his letter to me.
/ My dear Liliana wife, /
/I `m sorry for leaving you first, honey. sorry for having to make you responsible for taking care of everything on your own. Sorry because I can not give you love and affection anymore. God gave me a very short time because I love you and the kids is the best thing I ever did for you.
/ If I could, I’d love to be there forever. But I do not want you to lose my love just like that. I’ve been saving little by little for your life later. I do not want to worry about it after I leave. Not much I can give but I hope I can use it to raise and educate the children. Do the best for them, yes dear. /
/ Do not cry, my spoiled darling. Do a lot of things to make your life wasted all these years. I give you the freedom to realize the dreams you have not had time to do. Forgive me if I trouble you and may God give you a better mate than me./
/ To Farah, my beloved daughter. Forgive me because daddy can not be with you. Be a good wife like Mother and Farhan, my protective knight. Take care of Mother and Farah. Do not be a stubborn child anymore and always remember wherever you are, dad will be there to see it. Okay, Buddy!
I sobbed reading the letter, there was a cartoon with glasses with a tongue stuck out my husband’s typical when he sent a note.
Notary notified that during this time my husband has some insurance and savings deposits from the proceeds of his father’s inheritance.Suamiku make some effort from the proceeds of the savings deposits and the business is quite successful despite being managed by the people trust. I can only cry to know how much he loves us, so when death comes he keeps flooding us with love.
I never thought of getting married again. The number of men in attendance was unable to remove the figure that was still so alive in my heart. Day after day just devoted to my children. When my parents and my father-in-law went away one after the other left me forever, none left my grief as deep as my grief as my husband left.
Now my two daughters are twenty-three years old. In two days my daughter married a young man from the other side. Our daughter asked, “Mother, I have to how after being a wife, because Farah can not cook, can not wash, how ya bu?”
I hugged her and said “Love, love your husband, love your choice of heart, love what he has and you will get everything. Because love, you will learn to please her, will learn to accept her shortcomings, will learn that as big as any matter, you will finish it in the name of love. ”
My daughter looked at me, “like love mother to father? Is that the love that keeps the mother faithful to the father until now? ”
I shook my head, “no, my dear. Love your husband the way dad loves mother first, just as dad loves you both. Mom is faithful to father because of father’s great love for mother and both of you. ”
I may be unlucky not to have time to show my love for my husband. I spent ten years hating her, but spent most of the rest of my life loving her. I am free from him for death, but I can never be free of his sincere love.
source : azzein.wordpress.com
Islam Peace 