When the devil takes over

   “I can’t arrange the funds!” Lucifer said curtly.

    “Maybe later?” His wife, Delilah, spoke softly, but firmly.

    “Can’t promise you anything.” His face disappeared somewhere in the smoke of the cigarette.

    “You loved me. I mattered to you. Once.” Her eyes had a covert, but profound temper.

    “Once, everything was different. You weren’t so materialistic, once.” He glared back at her.

    “Materialistic? All that we have ever had is a physical relationship – that’s all. Isn’t that materialistic?” Her voice was sorrowful.

    “And still you stick around. You know why? Because of the money that I had.”

Her husband replied spitefully as he bent down, and held the arms of the easy chair that she was sitting in.

She looked back at him as if she had nothing more to say. Her deep-set, black eyes firmly fixed upon the violent, distorted, once handsome visage of her husband. She could feel his tobacco-filled breath on her face. It had been a long time since she had felt him this close to her.

Lucifer turned around and left the bedroom without another word. She kept looking at the closed door for some time before closing her eyes. A few tears painfully fought their way out of the closed eyelids of her burning eyes.

I could hear everything. I could hear the sobs of my mother, the low humming sound of her heart beat, and even the thoughts and dreams that she had. It was strange. Her every dream was about my father. Her heartbeat said a name that I knew was of my father, but I could not really discern what it was.

I wished I could sleep at times, but sleep never came to my eyes. Sometimes it was the altercations between my parents, and sometimes, the weeping of my mother that kept me awake. And whenever I did get an opportunity to get some shut-eye, my mother would cringe in pain and move into unusual postures for hours and hours making it difficult for me to adjust.

Even at nights, when she would be sleeping peacefully, I could hear my father making odd sounds. Sounds that I wanted to make; sounds that only a weeping person could make.

    “What is it that’s gone wrong between us? Everything was so perfect. I loved you from the very depth of my heart and nothing will ever change that. Has it all changed because of the wealth that I lost? I must get an answer. This thought is killing me from within.” Lucifer wept beside his sleeping wife.

This is so weird!

Sometimes, I could feel my father’s hands stroking the strange wall around me, but only partially. I always wondered why he wept only in the nights and not during the day so that I could sleep peacefully. Once, I spoke to the strange, heavenly voice that I could hear in my head.

    “What is all this?”

    “Foolishness.”

The reply was less than satisfactory, but I did not probe further as I was soon to find out myself.

I wondered about that for a long time though, and the more I thought of it, the more it made sense. The next time when my parents argued, I felt a bit agitated.

Why can’t we manage in a little less? And why can’t you two let each other know about your feelings?

Thankfully, this confusion did not last for a very long time. One morning I heard a loud cry and then everything turned upside down. The thud was followed by the sound of rushing footsteps and I felt my mother’s body being lifted.

The next thing I remember was the nurse speaking to my parents.

    “He is beautiful Mr and Mrs Jones.”

And there they were, holding me together, smiling, despite the grief on their faces – smiling. They were beautiful people who had turned into Lucifer and Delilah due to foolishness just like the voice had said.

Well, I had to set that right.

I tried to lift my father’s finger and pull it between my mother’s fingers. It was heavy. But I tried again; failed; repeated my effort; failed again.

I think he understood. He held my mother’s hand and said something to her that made her turn red. I did not completely understand why that happened, but the smile on her face depicted that now everything was going to be just perfect.

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Story of husbnad love to wife

My husband is an Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature, and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.

Three years of courtship and now, two years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.
I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings, I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband, is my complete opposite, his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about love.

One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.

“Why?” he asked, shocked. “I am tired, there are no reasons for everything in the world!” I answered. He kept silent the whole night, seems to be in deep thought with a lighted cigarette at all times. My feeling of disappointment only increased, here was a man who can’t even express his predicament, what else can I hope from him? And finally he asked me:” What can I do to change your mind?”

Somebody said it right, it’s hard to change a person’s personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him. Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered : “Here is the question, if you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind, Let’s say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death, will you do it for me?” He said :” I will give you your answer tomorrow….” My hopes just sank by listening to his response.

I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting, underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes…. My dear, “I would not pick that flower for you, but please allow me to explain the reasons further..” This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.

“When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen, I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs. You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you. You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city, I have to save my eyes to show you the way. You always have the cramps whenever your “good friend” approaches every month, I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.

You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom. You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes, I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails, and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand… and tell you the color of flowers, just like the color of the glow on your young face… Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do… I could not pick that flower yet, and die.. ”

My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting… and as I continue on reading… “Now, that you have finished reading my answer, if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk… I rush to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread….

Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone…

That’s life, and love. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.

Love shows up in all forms, even very small and cheeky forms, it has never been a model, it could be the most dull and boring form.. . flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands… and that’s our life… Love, not words win arguments…

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Marriage – very touching Story!

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 every 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 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 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!

Author Unknown

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A Short Story

I received a forwarded email in my inbox today..

"....This story touched me. I hope it touches you too..

This is a true story which has touched many readers. As it is quite a long story, reserve it (if you haven't got the time) and read it only when you are in a more relaxed mood.

In either case, do make it a point to savour everyline until the end. This is for all the single, married, divorced, widowed individuals, who take life for granted.

Please, read this story until the end. It is such an eye opener.
You never Know........ .!

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 passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, 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 packing 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 just picked me up and started spinning round and round.

As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to test on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me up at any moment put the tiny me into his pockets.

Whenever we have an argument and both refuses 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 comment:

"I do not know how you young people spend your money, why do you buy flowers for?

You also can't eat flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will also become better.."

Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people' s habit; slowly you will get use to it."

Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever came home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs.

I told her and she would shake her head and express displeasure.

Sometimes, when I come home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every item how much they cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get even more upset about it.

Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything would solve it."

There begins the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle.

Mother hates it most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast.

In your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife?

At the breakfast table, mother facial expression is always like the dark clouds before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice.

She would use her chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest.

As I am a dance teacher in the Children's Palace and am exhausted from along day of dancing around, 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 accumulating them so that she sell them later on, and 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 "Bam" she slams her bedroom door and cried very loudly in her room.

Hubby was placed in a difficult position, 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?" Hubby 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 to me and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the house.

During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in 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 any prompting.

At the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his breakfast and 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 feeling of unfairness overwhelmed me.

After some time, hubby sighed: "LD, just for me, can you have breakfast at home?"

I am left with no choice but to return to the breakfast table.

The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by 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 of it, 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 and putting 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 have not 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 am pregnant.

Now it became clear to me why I threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise happy news.

Why didn't hubby, and 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 haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him.

He followed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that 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.

What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started rolling down.

Why? Why our love couldn't 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 cried and wet the corner of the blanket.

That night, sound of the drawers opening woke me up.

I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face.

He was removing the money. 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 starting streaming down again.

The next day, I did not go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby.

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 hubby, 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, hubby did not say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me.

I only managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people.

That day, after mother left the house, she walked in 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 and hit 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.

Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every night with a strong liquor smell on him.

And me, I am buried under the guilt and self-pity 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, hubby came home later and later.

The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don't know each other.

I am like the dead knot in his heart.

One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, I saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed her hair for her, I understood what it meant.

After recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes.

I have nothing to say to him, and there is no need to say anything.

The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby stretched out his hand and stopped her.

He stared back at me,challenging me.

I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at the brink of death.

I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, I will collapse together with the baby inside me.

That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to indicate to me: Following 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 cupboard had been touched - he had returned to take some of his stuff..

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 hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not..

I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother for causing her death.

One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in the living room.

The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke.

On the coffee table, there was this piece of paper.

I know what it is all about without even looking at it.

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, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine.

As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you cannot cry...." my eyes hurt terribly, but I refused to let tears come out from there.

After I hung up my coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. 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?"

Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke 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..

Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket.

In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I could never reach them.

I cannot remember how many times he repeated "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, ever.

We have drawn such deep scars in each other's heart.

For me, it's unintentional; for him, totally intentional.

I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realized now, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.

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, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him.

From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished from my heart.

Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, I will walk out to the living room.

He had no choice but to sleep in mother's room.

At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept quiet.

This used to be his trick; last time, 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 last time I cared for him and am concerned because there was love, but now, what is there between us?

Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing 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 is full.

I know he is trying to use this to reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions.

He has no choice but to lock himself in his room and I can hear his 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, hubby came rushing into the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for this moment.

He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, 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 tear with joy and he kept smiling.

I reached out and touched his hand.. Hubby 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 body at that moment.

Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it was already in 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 and rushed home, I went into his room and checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.

Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and

I had thought that.... 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 journey.

To be honest, daddy is very happy.

Do love your mother, she has suffered, 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.

Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want to see you be 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...

These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him every year, the dates on what to give when are all written on the packaging... "

Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma.

I brought our son over and place 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 another disrupted the blissful footsteps to our family.

Our original intend of having 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, every thing became too late."...... ...

This is a true story.
LEARNING POINT - DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO OFFENCES!!!
I am totally speechless, this story brought tears to my eyes as I read through each line eager to know what would happen next. It truly showed the devastating power of grudges and anger!

Simple humility and communication would have resolved most of the problems in that story, as well as patience....

This story has really touched my heart and life as a whole and it has stimulated a paradigm shift.

Though it is very sad, it is also very refreshing to know that from today, I can consciously start to live a life free of grudge.

In life, offenses are inevitable.

But holding a grudge is a choice we consciously make.

Communication is key..."

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