It Took My Mother’s Death For Me To Finally Pack Out Of My Marriage

I was with my ex for fourteen years and we had three children together. Things were difficult but I stayed because of my first child. I had her when I was in school and I lost her father when she was too young to know him.

He was only twenty-nine when he passed. Can you imagine the tragedy of dying so young and leaving your little girl without a father? That’s why I tried my best for my daughter to have a home with both parents in it. I didn’t want her to miss out on her father’s love. So I put up with Stephen despite everything he did that made me wonder if I truly mattered to him.

Growing up, I lived with a few people outside my nuclear family. This taught me that life is never easy. I learned how to endure hardships without complaints. This must be why I stayed so long even when my marriage took a wrong turn. I must have convinced myself that all my husband’s neglect and nonchalance were a normal part of marriage.

Just as I accepted that the unpleasant conditions of my childhood were a normal part of life. Maybe I would have remained unfazed in that marriage had something drastic not happened to shake some self-preservation into me. It was in our fourteenth year together. My mother fell sick. She was a diabetic person who got a scratch on her foot.

Nothing we did to treat it worked. It got worse until the only option left was to amputate her foot. I picked mummy from upcountry and brought her to a specialist in my town. This specialist treated her for three weeks. During this period, I juggled work, my family, and attending to mummy in the hospital.

I was the one among my siblings who mostly took care of her because I was the closest to the hospital she was admitted to. Besides, it was easier for me than it would have been for my siblings who had more demanding jobs. Those who were close enough, visited whenever they could. Others were also uptown so they couldn’t come often.

I didn’t mind at all because they made efforts to be present and kept informed on everything that was going on. While I was making the hospital visits and keeping my siblings informed of our progress, my husband was always at home with the kids. So I extended him the same courtesy of keeping him updated with information.

Before I leave the house I would tell my husband, “It’s time for me to go and see Mummy at the hospital.” He would nod without saying a word. Upon my return, I would announce, “I am home. How is everyone doing?” If I didn’t tell this man what happened at the hospital, he would never ask. Not even a simple, “How is she doing?” His attitude toward my mother’s illness was painful.

Even if he couldn’t go with me to the hospital, the least he could have done was offer some emotional support. How much does it cost to even act like you care? Anyway, he couldn’t be bothered so I let him be. Despite our best efforts, Mummy got worse and we had to take her to Mulago hospital. My other siblings from upcountry all showed up when she was transferred. There were enough people taking care of her so I decided to take the night off from the hospital and sleep in my bed at home.

I didn’t want to leave her side but my body was exhausted. At around 4:00 am that dawn, one of my sisters called and said mummy had gotten worse and was on oxygen. I just knew in my spirit instantly that the worst was about to happen. I was so scared and confused that I jumped off the bed. For the first time since everything started, I broke down. I don’t know if my husband was so deep in sleep that he didn’t hear me crying at that quiet hour.

Maybe God gave him the same sleep he cast on Adam before Eve was created. I don’t know. All I know is, that I was in pain but I didn’t receive one comforting word from my husband. When I gathered myself, I dressed up and took a taxi to the hospital. Meanwhile, he had a car in the compound. That afternoon, mummy passed on. All the while I was in the hospital that day, Stephen didn’t call to ask why I left the house in tears. It was only my children who kept calling to check up on their grandmother.

When I broke the news of my mother’s passing, my kids cried which was expected. What about Stephen? I didn’t even get sorry from him. The vigil was at my brother’s place, just a kilometre away from our home. Stephen was not present. We went for my mother’s burial and he still didn’t show up. My children too couldn’t see their grandmother to pay their last respects because the burial happened two days after the president had announced the second lockdown of the COVID-19 pandemic.

I understand that traveling was restricted but it did not apply to Stephen. He is a healthcare provider so his car was cleared for movement. He himself could have gone anywhere he wanted because of his status as an essential worker, but he chose not to show up for me. He sent me money instead. He asked me to use the money to take care of the expenses I would make on that day. Really? He thought his money was better at my mother’s funeral than his presence? I sent it back to him.

My family usually doesn’t meddle in my marriage. All that matters to my siblings is that I am healthy and happy. However, that day after my mother’s burial one of my brothers passed a comment. He said, “Your husband is a bad person.” That was it. He didn’t need to say anymore. Only God knew what I felt inside my heart that day. My mother had been disrespected so much. I too felt so disrespected. I didn’t go home to fight with him or anything. I just packed my stuff and that of my four kids.

I gathered the children as well. I just couldn’t stay in that marriage for another day. He tried to apologize but how do you forgive that? It’s been almost four years now but I still can’t bring myself to hear his voice. We have never spoken since I left with the children.

I saw him once but I took the opposite route before he could get close to me. The most painful part about all this was, that six months months before Mummy’s passing, Stephen had a sick brother. My siblings were with us in the hospital. When he passed, I was by Stephen’s side like his second skin. On God, I worked like a donkey to ensure everyone who came to mourn with the family was taken care of.

Three of my sisters and a brother travelled long journeys just to be there for him. Yet when it was our turn, he was not present. A Guy Caught Us Doing It And Started Raising An Alarm

His reason for behaving so badly was that he asked me to resign from a job but I refused. If you can hold a grudge to this extent then are you even human? I didn’t do something you wanted so you abandoned me when I needed you the most? People may not understand but this pain is deep. There’s nothing worse that he could have done. This was my mother we are talking about, my number one relative. No matter what, he should have paid her his last respects.