On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there. On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.
On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn’t tell Dew about this.
I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger.
I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart.
Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head. Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it’s time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I 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, as if we came back to 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. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old. I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn’t notice that our life lacked intimacy. I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.
She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.
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 to the office.
When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old”.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in bed – DEAD. She 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 whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce. At least, in the eyes of our son… I’m a loving husband…