From The Diary Of A Broken Woman (I)

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 had passed away while he was still very young. Mother had endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him and 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 setting up 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 picked me up and started spinning round and round. As I begged him to put me down, he said excitedly: "Lets go fetch mother". Hubby is tall and big and I love to rest on his chest and enjoy the fact that he could pick me up at any moment ant almost put tiny me into his pockets. Whenever we have an argument and we both refuse 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 always comment: "I do not know how you young people spend your money, what do you buy flowers for? You can't eat flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, everyone has better moods." Mother would continue to grumble and hubby would say :"Mum, this is a city-people’s habit, slowly you will get used to it". Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever I came home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs.and shake her head when I said how much.

When I came home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask how much each item cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get very upset about it. One day, Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything, that would solve it!" That is how the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle began. Mother really hated it when hubby would wake up early to prepare the breakfast. At the breakfast table, mother's facial expression was always like dark clouds before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice and turn deaf ears to her protests.

From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soon her help created additional work for me. For example: she would accumulate all kinds of plastic containers that she would claim she wanted to sell, it always 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 next thing, she slammed her bedroom door and cried very loudly. Hubby was placed in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak to me for that entire night.

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 for 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 there was an awkwardness around the house. During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in a dilemma as per whom 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 looked at hubby happily eating his breakfast and cast reprimanding stares at me for having failed to perform my duty as a wife. To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation the next day, 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 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 was left with no choice but to return to the breakfast table. The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother when 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 couldn't. I threw down the bowl, rushed into the restroom, and vomited everything. Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the restroom doorway staring at me with fire burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth but no words came out of it, I really hadn't meant to throw up!

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 could I have done? For no reason, I kept having the feeling to throw up and I simply had no 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 was pregnant and then it became clear to me why I threw up that morning. A sense of sadness cloaked the otherwise happy news. Why hadn't hubby, and mother who had been through this before, thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day?

To be continued...

Author unknown