Novela da jornada da restauração de Yvonne ❤️ Capítulo 5

Chapter 5
“The Anger was Brewing in Me”

Ian is not very good with remembering dates like birthdays, anniversaries, etc and it never bothered me, but I sometimes wonder if my mother’s death was the one date he would remember and dread all year long, not just because he loved her too, but because of my behaviour whenever the month of October would approach us.

Around the time of my mom’s death, I would become impossible to live with. I would go off on him for no reason. He was never a man who would really fight back, he would allow me to blow off steam, and then he would just turn and walk away. Of course, this made it worse, and it would all escalate until he could not take it anymore and would fight back and then I, the poor victim, would start crying. I must also admit that I knew just how far to push him; he was such a patient man with me. He had a tell, where I knew his patience was running thin, and that was when he looked at me when I could see the skin around his lips turning white, and he would ask the question, “Are you done?” That was my cue to stop my nonsense. He would never have gotten physical with me; I knew that for sure. I mean, he never even swore at me when we were arguing. Hahaha, okay, you are right, let’s be real, I mean, while "I" was arguing. Most of the time, it was just a monologue.

The one good thing about these annual arguments was that the crying at least was an outlet, and then for the other 11 months of the year, we would not fight again. Sure, we would disagree on things, but it was always lighthearted and quickly diffused, and we never ever went to bed angry with each other. Then the tension and anger in me would start building again for the next 11 months.

There was a time after my mom passed away when we were not sure if we should get married or wait a bit. What clinched it for me was that I woke up every morning in the bed where my mom should have been lying next to me. Each morning I turned around expecting to find her there and every morning it was empty, and my heart broke all over again. I wanted to run away from it all and just pretend that it had never happened. And I did just that!

I got married and ran away from the home I spend the last 10 years of my childhood. I pretended my mother never died, I would catch myself talking about her like she was still around and when I realized how crazy and confusing that sounded to the people around me, I stopped talking about her altogether. There was this gaping hole inside of me, and every time I would think of my mother, it would start pulsating along the edges, and it felt as if I was going to explode from the inside out. Ultimately I blamed God; He was the one responsible for her death. Does the bible not say, the Lord gives, and He takes away?

So, my question to you is: “Have we journeyed far enough alongside each other on this road that although you see me mentioning God and you don’t believe in His existence, that you will bear with me to see how it all turns out? Just consider this from my perspective, and even though we might not share the same beliefs, I do hope you will stick around for the rest of my story. It would be wonderful to have you on this road with me. Even if you think I am delusional and crazy. I would also like to save you from having sleepless nights wondering how it all turns out (spoiler alert) for good… Hahahaha.

Let me continue...on our wedding day, all Ian and I could think of was getting the eventful day behind us. I don’t know why he wanted it all done with, I just assumed it was the same reason I did, but now thinking back, I wonder if he had another reason. Can you believe that I was so caught up in my own pain and consumed by my own feelings that I never took the time to ask him? I forgot that, of course, he also loved my mom. My mom was one of those people who you instantly liked. So he'd lost her as well, but I was too busy with me to worry about his feelings. Maybe he was also hoping that getting married and making a new start for us would be what I needed.

The entire three weeks after my mom’s death, with us planning the last things for our wedding, is sort of a hazy fog for me. I remember that I kind of left all the arrangements in the hands of my siblings and my almost in-laws, just agreeing with everything and not really caring. Yet there are some things I do remember from my wedding day. Wow, now that I am writing this down, isn’t your wedding suppose to be one of the most memorable days? I can hardly recall a thing—even when looking at the pictures, it looks like someone else’s wedding and not my own.

I do remember this, though: in church that day, there were two swallows flying around, and Ian and I shared a moment where we both smiled and wondered if they were going to mess up our wedding clothes. We had an excellent relationship and could convey thoughts to each other without saying a word. Afterward, he shared such a silly joke with me, and I know reading this, you would not laugh at all if I tried to retell it. Thankfully, the silliness of the joke broke the tension I felt inside of me, and that is one thing that Ian knew how to do for me: break the tension.

We were talking about the swallows, and everyone was saying how it was a sign of my mom and dad being there. Ian was very observant, seeing that after my mother died when someone would tell me “she’s in a better place” or any of the other phrases commonly used, and some were unique to my mother, of course. She loved cooking, and so one of those phrases of comfort was: “she was preparing food for us in heaven” or “she was with my dad now.” I had to bite my lip because I just wanted to scream: “HOW DO YOU KNOW!!! Have you seen them there? Do you know for sure that Heaven even existed? How do we not know she did not just blink out of existence, or worse, she went the other way!” Already just shortly after her death, the anger was brewing in me.

When someone mentioned the swallows for the umpteenth time, I could not hold it in anymore, and I said with an attitude: “This dress is not mine, so all I was worried about was that they would mess it up.” Ian, recognizing my voice, said: “Well, it could have been worse; they could have been elephants flying around.” I immediately started giggling, remembering I was only 21, still a child, and I was angry and hurt, but it defused the situation immediately, and this was something that Ian would do a lot over the years.

“Stop being angry! Turn from your rage! Do not lose your temper — it only leads to harm.”