DEAR EMILY,
How do you forgive a husband whom you have loved more than your life, idolized, respected, adored to high heavens? He journeyed through life with me for 35 years, vowed to love me through thick and thin, till death do us part.
We laughed, cried, went through the ups and downs of life in a very happy marriage. His children called him the “best dad in the world.” He was the only one who knew me inside out, like the palm of his hand.
One day, he decided that life would be better off with a woman 32 years his junior, a subordinate in his office. He started to physically abuse me—kicking me, slapping me, punching me, then degrading me further by spitting on my face, threatening to kill me.
He screamed that if he went to jail for it, it would be “all worth it.” I was pushed to the wall and left with no choice but to pack up my things and leave him.
This gave him the freedom to live with this mistress and get her pregnant. From then on, he has deprived us of financial support and we had to fend for ourselves. He only started to give financial support to our minor child when he was threatened with exposure in the business world he circulated in.
He has completely detached himself from his family. He obliterated birthdays and important occasions, not even paying his last respects to his dead father-in-law who gave him a much-needed boost when he was just starting in his career.
How can you forgive this man who was once a loving and ideal husband, father and grandfather, but who turned into a beast when he shamelessly fell for the allure of this devil disguised as a woman? We didn’t even hear a simple sorry from him!
VALIANT WOMAN
How can you forgive this man? Honestly? You don’t! Not immediately!
What you really want is to use him to fertilize the wildflowers in the hinterlands, or, better, sleep with the fishes— whichever is more painful.
But you won’t and shouldn’t! That’s just human nature at its rawest. You’re not a saint and aren’t running to be canonized, so you are allowed to bear such thoughts.
You’ve learned that despite a separation of 20 months, the wound still throbs with pain and it seems that nothing will be right again. Well, I’ve got news for you. One day, in the not-so-distant future, you will notice the sun shining again, and suddenly all the aches that used to greet you first thing in the morning are gone with nary a goodbye to you.
That’s what’s great about time. It surreptitiously heals the mind—as nanoseconds slide unnoticed—with very thin layers of scabs, and over time make hurts and pains just a fleeting memory and even fodder for jokes.
So, dear Valiant Woman, take the high road, no matter how much you’d like the creep to provide the material for your lampshade. You loved him once and wished him happiness—at all costs—did you not? This is his idea of happiness, so wish him well.
It hurts to the core. It hurts worse than a root canal without anaesthesia. You wish to gather all the witches in the database and, together, transform him into an ugly toad.
Go ahead and scream with all your might until your voice turns into a whisper—if that helps in flushing his toxins out of your being. And after you’ve exhausted every ounce of energy in your body, settle down and be the Valiant Woman you’re calling yourself.
It won’t be easy, but you will love yourself for it. A small victory possibly—but victory nonetheless.
It is so easy for outsiders to say, forget the scoundrel, isn’t it? But W. Somerset Maugham in one of his short stories put it so wonderfully: “Why,” he wrote, “did people make themselves unhappy?… Was it worthwhile to be wretched, to harbor malice, to be vain and uncharitable? We live to be happy so short a time, and we are dead so long.”
Indeed! –Emily Marcelo, Philippine Daily Inquirer
E-mail emarcelo@inquirer. com.ph; Subject: Lifestsyle.
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