Marriage Nobyembre 5, 2007
Posted by dyconn in inbox.Tags: family, love, marriage, relationship
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Another moving story that I recieved recently which I would like to share.Honestly,after reading it I feel like crying..
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 Dew. 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 Dew 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 daywith
Dew.
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 everyday 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 Dew 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 mummy 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 graying! 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 Dew 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
mum 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. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, 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, Dew, 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 any more. 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.
Dew 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.
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, blah..blah..blah. 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!
I have to conquer my fear Oktubre 17, 2007
Posted by dyconn in Uncategorized.add a comment
I am a social phobic. I am anxious being around people especially those that I do not know.Stranger anxiety as what psychiatrist called it.That is why most often I was regarded as unfriendly and snob.This also maybe the reason why I prefer staying at home rather than attending parties and the like.
My handicap hinders me in bringing out my best.
I think It is never too late to overcome this barrier.I have to do something.And the best way maybe is to face what I am afrad of.I have to learn how to reach out.Teach myself to mingle.Befriend others.
teaching me to unlove Oktubre 15, 2007
Posted by dyconn in Sentiments.Tags: emotions, hate, inner self, love
1 comment so far
maybe i was head over heels inlove
that i was blinded by the truth
my vision was blurred
by this intense emotion i felt for you
I denied the truth
yes i let my life spent in lies
for i think someday i will be happy
someday you will be mine
with those hurtful words spoken
and unforgiven actions
i realized that you are teaching me a lesson
and that is how to learn unloving you
am a good student,a fast learner too
so you do not need much time my dear teacher
for me to learn how to hate you
The Basureros Oktubre 10, 2007
Posted by dyconn in inbox.Tags: basureros, life, poem, reality, story, values
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For my first ever blog I would like to share this very inspiring and very moving story/poem I just recieved in my inbox a moment ago.The message is too inspiring that I can’t help myself sharing it. Here it goes:
The Basureros
Ever since it was diagnosed that I am
having a possible heart enlargement in
the last APE, I have exerted more
effort to do physical exercises.
I do jogging during week days and do
long – ride mountain biking every
Sunday.
But this Sunday is a special Sunday to
me. While I was on my way to the
mountains of Busay (cebu) hoping to
strengthened my heart by this
exercise, instead, I personally
encountered a heart-breaking scene that changed me.
I already passed the Marco Polo Plaza
(formerly Cebu Plaza Hotel) when I
decided to stop to buy bananas at a
small carenderia located along the
road. I haven’t taken any solid food
that morning so I need fruits to have
the needed energy to get to my
destination – the mountain top.
I am almost done eating with the
second banana when I noticed two
children across the street busily
searching the garbage
area. “Basureros” I said to myself and
quickly turn my attention away from
them to sip a small amount of water.
I cared less for these kind of
children actually; to make it
straight, I do not like them, and I do
not trust them even more.
You see, several times I have been a
victim to these kind of children who
are pretending to be basureros looking
for empty bottles and cans when in
fact the ‘plangganas’ , ‘kalderos’,
and ‘hinayhays’ are their favorites.
I remember one afternoon while I was
watching a Mike Tyson fight when I
noticed that the TV screen suddenly
became blurred. I checked outside and
saw two young basureros running away
with my newly installed antenna.
Hatred may be a little bit stronger
word to describe my feeling towards
these basureros, but I do not like
them honestly not till I met these
three children.
I was about to embark on my bike again
when I heard one of the two children,
a girl of about 7 or 8 of age saying
aloud to the other, a 12-yr old
boy, “kuya si dodong kunin mo kasi
tumitingin sa mga kumain, nakakahiya”,
only then that I noticed a small boy
standing near to me biting slightly
his finger. He’s a few inches shorter
if compared to my
5 years old son (but I knew later that
he’s also 5 yrs. Old).
Though he did not asked for food to
anyone in the carenderia, the way he
looked at the customers who were
eating , enough to convinced me that
he intensely craving for it.
The older boy then quickly crossed the
street and gently pulled out the
little one who politely obeyed. As I
watched the two crossing back the
street to the garbage area, I heard
the tindera saying “kawawa naman yung
mga batang yun mababait pa naman “. I
learned further from the carenderia
owner that the children are from a
good family , both parents were
working before, and that their father
got a stroke 3 years ago and became
partially paralized and their mother
died of heart attack while their
father was still confined at the
hospital.
The parents were still in their early
forties when the catastrophe happened,
and the children became basureros
since then to meet their daily needs
and for their father’s medication.
Deeply moved by what I heard, I went
to a nearby bakery and bought 20 pesos
worth of bread and gave it to the
children who initially refused
including the little boy.
“Sige lang po, salamat na lang, bibili
na lang po kami mamaya kung makabenta
na kami,” the young girl said to me.
I explained that they need to go home
because it started to rain. “Nasanay
na po kami “, the girl answered again.
Again, I explained that the rain can
make them sick and if they’ll become
sick there’s no one to take care of
their father. Upon mentioning their
father, they nodded and accept the
bread but I noticed that the older boy
did not eat.
When I asked him if he does not like
the kind of bread I bought for them he
smiled but as he’s about to explain,
the little girl, who is the more
talker of them interrupted, “Linggo po
kasi ngayon,pag sabado at linggo hapon
lang po sya kumakain, kami lang po ang
kumakain ng agahan pero di na po kami
kakain pagdating ng hapon si kuya lang
po.
Pero pag lunes hanggang biyernes, kasi
may pasok, si kuya lang po nag-
aagahan, kami hapunan lang pero kung
marami kaming benta, kami pong lahat
(kumakain) she continued. “bakit kung
kumain kayong lahat, hati-hatiin nyo
na lang kahit kunti lang ang pagkain?
I countered.
The young girl reasoned out that their
father wanted that her older brother
to come to school with full stomachs
so he can easily catch up the
teacher’s lessons. ” Pag nagkatrabaho
si kuya, hihinto kami sa pamamasura,
first honor kasi sya”, the little boy
added proudly.
Maybe I was caught by surprise or I am
just overly emotional that my tears
started to fall.
I then quickly turned my back from
them to hide my tears and pretended to
pick up my bike from the carenderia
where I left it.
I don’t know how many seconds or
minutes I spent just to compose
myself; pretending again this time
that I was mending by bike.
Finally I get on to my bike and
approached the three children to bid
goodbye to them who in turn cast their
grateful smiles at me. I then took a
good look at all of them specially to
the small boy and pat his head with a
pinch in my heart. Though I believe
that their positive look at life can
easily change their present situation,
there is one thing that they can never
change; that is , their being
motherless. That little boy can no
longer taste the sweet embrace, care,
and most of all , the love of his
mother forever. Nobody can refill the
empty gap created by that sudden and
untimely death of their mother. Every
big events that will happen to their
lives will only remind them and make
them wish of their mother’s presence.
I reached to my pocket and handed to
them my last 100 peso bill which I
reserved for our department’s bowling
tournament. This time they refused
strongly but I jokingly said to the
girl, “suntukin kita pag hindi mo
tinanggap yan”. She smiled as she
extended her hand to take the
money. “Salamat po, makakabili na
kami ng gamot ni papa”, she uttered.
I then turned to the small boy and
though he’s a few feet away from me, I
still noticed that while his right
hand was holding the half – filled
sack , his left hand was holding a
toy ?
a worn out toy car. I waved my hands
and said bye bye to him as I drove
towards the mountains again. Did he
just found the toy in the garbage area
or the toy was originally his – when
the misfortune did not took place
yet? – I did not bother to ask.
But one thing is crystal clear to me,
that inspite of the boy’s abnormal
life, he did not given up his
childhood completely. I can sense it
that way he hold and stare at his toy.
My meeting with that young basureros
made me poorer by 100 pesos. But they
changed me and made me more richer as
to lessons of life are concerned.
In them, I learned that life can
changed suddenly and may caught me
flat footed.
In them, I’ve learned that even the
darkest side of life, cannot change
the beauty of one’s heart. Those three
children, who sometimes cannot eat
three times a day, still able to hold
on to what they believe was right. And
what a contrast to most of us who are
quick to point out to our misfortunes
when caught with our mistakes. In
them, I’ve learned to hope for things
when things seem to go the other way.
Lastly, I know that God cares for them
far more than I do. That though He
allowed them to experience such a
terrible life which our finite minds
cannot comprehend, His unquestionable
love will surely follow them through.
And in God’s own time they will win
hiding place 