Sunday, January 29, 2012

A Piece Of Imagination - A Touching Love Story

This was the Day. Tony had been waiting for this day for his entire life. He had his share of sorrow all through his life but now the moment waited him which would change his life forever. He was 22 and had seen so much in these years. He never knew what a mother's warmth was. She died giving birth to him. Soon after her death his Dad started seeing other women. Tony hailed from a very rich and prestigious family with generations having served the poor through the medical fraternity. Everyone was a doctor or a PHD but not his dad. His dad didn't take up the medical profession, in fact never tried to earn a penny.

Tony had a lonely childhood until Jane entered his life. He could still remember the day when Jane moved to his borhood. He had found a true fried in her. Jane's company covered all his sorrows, he stated smiling, laughing and more importantly enjoying his life. And now he was going to ask her to marry him. This was his last day of college and he had been preparing for this moment for a while now. He had visualized the scene a hundred times in his dreams." Will you marry me Miss Jane?" He had memorized this simple plain line. As he was waiting for Jane in his garden he heard Uncle Jack calling him. Uncle Jack was the one who looked after him for all these years. Mr. Jack was a Psychologist. He was very dear to Tony. "Can I speak to you for some time, Tony?" "Now? Actually Uncle ..." Before Tony could complete his statement uncle jack said "Tony this is really very important. I always wanted to speak to you about this but was afraid. Now you are older and you will be able to understand.. ." "What is it all about..." Tony asked with a tensed voice. "Not here... Let's go inside the living room and will have a talk there"

Tony followed Uncle Jack into the cottage. Tony was very anxious and nervous. He had never seen his Uncle this way. "Tony before I talk to u about it please promise me you won't panic and whatever happens always remember that I am with you." "God! You are making me too nervous. Tell me uncle jack what is it about". Tony wanted to get through this as early as possible. "Jane must be waiting for me" he thought. "Tony you need to keep your calm. Know it will be very tough for you to understand.. Tony, remember the day when you told me about Jane moving to the cottage next to ours?"

"Is it about Jane...?" he shrieked, his heart was pumping fast... "Listen Tony There is no one living in that cottage for years now..." "whhhat ?? How's that possible I have been there myself so many times.....what are you talking about? I just can't understand" "Please listen Tony. You were alone those days and were very upset with life. You didn't have friends then...You went through lot of things...You wanted to be happy but were unable to you didn't had anyone to talk to" Uncle jack moved closer to Tony and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "And in such situations your brain plays bad games with you. You started imagining Jane as your friend...There is no Jane; Tony you are just imagining her..." "Just just just imagining her...how can you say that ...I have touched her even kissed her cheeks. It's you who are crazy and not me..."

"Tony I know it's hard to believe this. But it's the truth. I always wanted to tell you this but you were too small to understand.. ." "No that's not possible.... .you are lying ..." "No son it's your own mind lying you...please Tony keep your cool everything will be fine ....just trust me"

Tony rushed away from the living room. He ran to meet Jane in the Garden. But no one was there. He went to Jane's house hoping to find her there...he tried ringing the door bell but it didn't rang and how would it? The place was locked for 17 years now. He entered the Cottage through a broken window..Eveything was deserted. The sofa on which he and Jane sat chatting for hours was covered with layers of dust... He was almost crying now...he moved to the terrace to find the rose plant they planted together. There was nothing only some rusted furniture and dust. He went back Uncle Jack. "Son, I am sorry but you need to get out of this..." Tony couldn't believe what had happened to him. The girl who he loved the most and wanted to marry didn't exist. She was fake, a thought, and a piece of imagination...

It took around a month for him to digest his fate. He was finally recovering. And that day before going to sleep he took those tablets which he took for last 15 years. He always wondered why Uncle Jack kept giving him those tablets. Now he knew the answer. He was sick. Sick mentally. As he was about to sleep he heard a knock on his door. It was Jane. "Jane you cant be here...you don't exist..." "What's that? Is this some kind of Joke, Tony? I came here to say sorry. I had to leave that day without informing you because my mom died in a car accident...I tried to reach you but somehow I was not able to..."

"Noooo! this is not true" said Tony. "There is no one called Jane in my life...I know that now...Just get away from me... " "Whats the matter with you Tony? I am Jane your sweetheart your love...." "No that's not true...." Tony closed his eyes for a moment hoping his dream would end.... Jane held his hand....Tony was shivering he could feel the touch.His brain was playing Bad games with him he knew it. "Come here my baby you are not well...you need some rest" "Go away from me ...just go..." Tony was breathing high now...He tried keeping his cool and took a deep breath. He knew this would be over once he convinced himself that there was no Jane. "Jane you are my imagination. ..I made you..." "Tony you can't hurt me ...you love me so much ...we had such a great time together" "No Jane, I had a great time with myself..." What am I talking! I am going nuts..

He rushed into the kitchen. He came back with water all over his shirt... He could still see Jane standing there...weeping. He was well aware of the bad games of the Brain now. He went closer to her... "Jane i made you ...now i will destroy you..." Zap zap zap... three stabs...Jane was bleeding... Tony could feel the red liquid ....bad brain games he thought... "Uncle Jack. Where are you? I am cured now. There will be no Jane from now on...where are you Uncle Jack?" "There is no Uncle Jack. I wanted to tell you this... All these days..." Jane gasped. Breathing her last breath.

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Mother's Love

My mom only had one eye. I hated her... she was such an .embarrassment
She cooked for students & teachers to .support the family
There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to .say hello to me
I was so embarrassed. How could she do this ?to me
I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and .ran out
The next day at school one of my classmates said, \"EEEE, your mom only has \"!one eye
I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to .just disappear
So I confronted her that day and said, \" If you're only gonna make me a laughing stock, why \"!!!?don't you just die
My mom did not ...respond
I didnt even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was .full of anger
I was oblivious to her .feelings
I wanted out of that house, and have .nothing to do with her
So I studied real hard, got a chance to go to .Singapore to study
Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. .I had kids of my own
I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts
Then one day, my mother .came to visit me
She hadn't seen me in years and she didn't even .meet her grandchildren
When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming .over uninvited
I screamed at her, \"How dare you come to my house and scare my children!\" \"!!!GET OUT OF HERE! NOW
And to this, my mother quietly answered, \"Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address,\" and she disappeared .out of sight
One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my .house in Singapore
So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business .trip
After the reunion, I went to the .old shack just out of curiosity
My neighbors said that .she died
I did not shed a single .tear
They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to .have
My dearest son,\" I think of you all the time. I'm sorry that I came to Singapore and scared your .children
I was so glad when I heard you were coming .for the reunion
But I may not be able to even get out of bed to .see you
I'm sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were .growing up
You see........when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost .your eye
As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you having .to grow up with one eye
.So I gave you mine
I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my .place, with that eye
,With my love to you
Your mother.

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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

My Sweet little Angel - Sweet Story

My wife called, ‘How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?’ I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter Sindu looked frightened.
Tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with Curd Rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.She has just turned eight. She particularly detested Curd Rice. My
mother and my wife are orthodox, and believe firmly in the ‘cooling effects’ of Curd Rice!
I cleared my throat, and picked up the bowl. ‘Sindu, darling,why don’t you take a few mouthful of this Curd Rice?Just for Dad’s sake, dear.
Sindu softened a bit, and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. ‘OK, Dad. I will eat – not just a few
mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should…’ Sindu hesitated. ‘Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?’………..Oh sure, darling’….’Promise?’……………..
‘Promise’. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinch the deal.
‘Ask Mom also to give a similar promise’, my daughter insisted.
My wife put her hand on Sindu’s, muttering ‘Promise’.
Now I became a bit anxious. ‘Sindu dear, you shouldn’t insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items.Dad does not have that kind of money right now. OK?’
‘No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive’.Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity.
I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child eat something that she detested.
After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation.All our attention was on her………….’Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!’ was her demand.
‘Atrocious!’ shouted my wife, ‘A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!’ ‘Never in our family!’ my mother rasp. ‘She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!’
Sindu darling, why don’t you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.’
‘No, Dad. I do not want anything else’, Sindu said with finality.
‘Please, Sindu, why don’t you try to understand our feelings?’ I tried to plead with her.
‘Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice’. Sindu was in tears. ‘And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra,and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?’
It was time for me to call the shots. ‘Our promise must be kept.’
‘Are you out your mind?’ chorused my mother and wife.
‘No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honor her own. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.’
With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.
On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom.She turned around and waved. I waved back with a smile.
Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, ‘Sinduja, please wait for me!’
What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. ‘May be, that is the in-stuff’, I thought.
‘Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!’ Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued,’ That boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish.He is suffering from… … leukemia.’ She paused to muffle her sobs. Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month.He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates’Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue.
But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son!
Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.’
I stood transfix. And then, I wept. ‘My little Angel, you are teaching me how self-less real love is!’
*The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love..*

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Monday, January 23, 2012

Misfortune Death - Some Questions For My Mom

I went to a party, Mom,
I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink,
So I drank soda instead.
I really felt proud inside,
The way you said I would.I didn't drink and drive, Mom,

Even though the others said I should.
I know I did the right thing,Mom,
I know you are always right.Now the party is finally ending,
As everyone is driving out of sight.

As I got into my car, Mom,
I knew I'd get home in one piece.
Because of the way you raised me,
So responsible and sweet.

I started to drive away, Mom,
But as I pulled out into the road,
The other car didn't see me,
,And hit me like a load.
As I lay there on the pavement, Mom,
I hear the policeman say,"The other guy is drunk,"
And now I'm the one who will pay

I'm lying here dying, Mom....
I wish you'd get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mom?
My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, Mom,
And most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say,
I'll die in a short time.
I just wanted to tell you, Mom,
I swear I didn't drink.
It was the others, Mom.
The others didn't think.

He was probably at the same party as I.
The only difference is, he drank And I will die.
Why do people drink, Mom?
It can ruin your whole life.
I'm feeling sharp pains now.
Pains just like a knife.

The guy who hit me is walking, Mom,
And I don't think it's fair.
I'm lying here dying
And all he can do is stare.

Tell my brother not to cry, Mom.
Tell Daddy to be brave.
And when I go to heaven, Mom,
Put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave.

Someone should have told him, Mom,
Not to drink and drive.
If only they had told him, Mom,
I would still be alive.

My breath is getting shorter, Mom.
I'm becoming very scared.
Please don't cry for me, Mom.
When I needed you,you were always there.
I have one last question, Mom.
Before I say good bye.I didn't drink and drive,
So why am I the one to die?

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A very sad day, But a peaceful one

I started this blog on New Years not knowing what it would bring. I lacked focus and after committing to this project for the new year, I wondered what I was getting myself into. I told myself that I would not write everyday, but as needed. Then my father got sick and sicker and sicker.

The week after I started my blog I took my Father for a PET Scan and it was determined that his newly found stomach lymphoma appeared to have also been in his small intestines. The following day, we went to meet with his oncologist who was willing to start treatment, but you could just tell by the look on his face, he was not overly optimistic. There was no way my father was strong enough to handle chemotherapy. One, maybe two sessions and that would have been the end of him. I told my father that he should think about getting a bit stronger first, but he did not want to wait. He has already missed three appointments with the oncologist because he was hospitalized 4 times in December- bowl obstructions, hepatic comas and variations of other issues he had going on. You see, my brother is getting married in September and while my father knew in September of last year, when the wedding was booked, that he would not be here a year from that time, he still wanted to fight and try.

The day after the oncologist consult where he set himself up with all the appointments to start his chemotherapy infusion, I drove him into Manhattan to see his doctor at Mount Sinai Hospital in the Liver Transplant Center. That visit brought even more discouraging news. You see, it had always been their policy that a patient be cancer free for 5 years before undergoing a transplant. The doctor, who my father absolutely adored, had to tell my father with tears in his eyes, that he was no longer viable for a transplant and therefore could not be treated in the clinic any longer. As a professional courtesy, the doctor agreed to monitor him in his other office, but there was not much he could do for him at that point. He had exhausted all medical measures and had to tell my father, and the rest of the family; that at the rate his liver was declining, his liver would not last the 5 years he was required to be cancer free. Chemo in his case might shut the liver down completely and with all the other medical issues he had going on, he was given a 20% survival rate.

On the way out of the doctors office, my father needed to stop in the bathroom before we headed back to Long Island. As I waited for him, I stood in the hallway and started crying. The doctor had in the best way he knew how, handed my father a death sentence and there was no turning back and no reversing it. I tried to be brave and not show my pain and sorrow, but you could see it all over my face. I drove home from Manhattan having a huge anxiety attack, fighting back the tears and with the thought that I would probably not have to be inconvenienced to take my father into the city too many more times.

At this point my father was weak and could not get around easily so we had a wheelchair in the car that we used for such occasions when a long walk was required. There was one part of the hospital that had a fairly large ramp and the first time I went to the city when my father was wheelchair bound, I ran down the ramp pushing him at a very high speed. He was saying "Slow down, there is a wall up ahead". And at the very last minute, I would slow down and then make the turn. He would comment to me how he thought I was going to crash him or make him fly out of the wheelchair. After we would turn the corner and he knew he was safe, I would say to him, "Come on, you know that was fun" and he would look up and say, "Actually it kind of was". On January 7, 2010 when I took him for his visit, this would be the last time I ran him down the ramp at a high speed. Sick people, doctors, serious people all around, and then there were the two of us running down the halls in a wheelchair at race car speeds. Like little kids smiling and laughing the entire way. And as I said, it would be the last time we acted like little kids together, only I did not know it at the time.

Less than a week later, my father started to get sicker, and sicker, and sicker. My father was to start his first Chemo infusion on January 14th. Originally it was scheduled for the 13th, but when we learned it was to be almost 7 hours long, we asked him to change it as it was my mother's birthday on the 13th. As that week started off, my father was not feeling well and as the days went on, he got worse and worse. It was apparent that he was far too weak and unstable to start the chemo, but he insisted on trying as it was his "last hope". My sister was to fly in on the 19th and asked if he could hold off just one more week, but my father refused. He was adamant that he get started right away "before he changed his mind and decided to die".

Somewhere around the 12th (a Tuesday), he was so ill and so unstable that he could not even stand on his own. He could not get comfortable for more than a moment at a time and he looked at me and said, "Maybe this week is not such a good week to start my chemo." "I may need to rethink this one.", he said. A wise decision on his part, but it did not matter, he never would have made it to that chemo appointment anyway. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning Tuesday or technically Wednesday morning around 2am, I said enough is enough and I called an ambulance. As sick as he was, my father did not want to go to the hospital. You see, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he might not make it and I think he did not want to die in the hospital alone in the middle of the night. For weeks prior he had been making peace with God, asking questions about how to pray and how to get into Heaven. I think he knew and he was prepared, yet he did not want to die alone......and he didn't.

When we got him to the hospital, his heart rate was very rapid, then barely existent. His blood pressure was so faint, a mere 45/11 at some points and at others, even lower than that. His heart rate was up and then down. He was in pain, his kidney's were shutting down, his one lung had collapsed or was not working at first glance and he was starting to take on a very yellow color as jaundice from his failing liver was setting in. As the hours went on, they tried, but were keeping him comfortable and buying him hours at the best. He was in so much pain and as I watched as his blood pressure went to 23/9 and his eyes were rolling back in his head, I looked at my mother and said, "We can't do this to him anymore....all his organs are failing - he has too much wrong with him and we can't keep putting him through this."

The doctors wanted to know if he stopped breathing if we wanted them to put my father on a ventilator, and I know for certain that he did not want that. With tears welling up and feeling like the World's biggest piece of shit, I looked at my mother and said, "We have to sign the papers...we have to sign them, he can't do this anymore." My mother looked at me and said, "The DNR?" ...... It was as if all the life had been drained from my body. I could not speak, I could not breath- all I could do was nod my head "yes" and run out of the room hysterical. Complete strangers were coming up to me asking if I was OK and if they could get me anything but all I could do was say, "no thank you" and cry some more.

My sister lives in Las Vegas and I had called her late at night her time, and in the wee hours of morning my time to tell her that the doctors did not expect he was going to pull through until next week and if she could, she might want to consider catching a sooner flight out. Just as I had picked up the phone to go out of the room and call her, the phone rang. I answered hysterical crying to my sister saying, "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong? What happened? Net- Tell me what is going on!" She thought it was too late and he was gone, but he wasn't- not yet anyway.

I explained the situation, told her we had to do it and that I felt like the World's biggest piece of shit. I told her that his kidneys had completely shut down, that his heart was erratic, his blood pressure barely existent and that his lungs were not functioning properly and he had trouble breathing. He was in pain, his skin was yellow and he was going into multi-organ failure. If we cured one issue, there were a million more and the odds were so stacked against him. The DNR needed to be signed, I did not want to and I felt as if I signed it, I would be condemning him to death, but he was suffering. I had watched him suffer for a long, long time, but never like this. From both ends of the phone, silence, then hysterical crying and disbelief. My sister told me to sign it- her own father-in-law was in the hospital, put on a vent, had kidney issues for a while and she knew just how painful it was. My sister told me to "sign the papers. You are not the one killing him, you are stopping his pain and he is suffering now."

My sister was working on getting a sooner flight but just in case, I snuck the phone into the ER and put my father on the phone with my sister so that they could at least speak one last time. My father, never an emotional man at all, got on the phone. I had to remove his oxygen mask and as he gasp for breath, he told my sister that he loved her, was proud of her and if he never saw her again that he would miss her. He then asked her to please not forget him when he was gone. I knew that it was his time, but prayed for two things- one that he hang on long enough for his children to see him one last time and two, that he not die that day- not before midnight because this is how my mother was spending her birthday.

As soon as I got off the phone with my sister, I immediately called my brother at work and told him he better leave work early because Dad was bad- real bad and I was not sure how much longer he had left. Should the toxins build up and he go into another hepatic coma, he needed to see his father one last time before it was too late. Moments later he arrived and shortly after that, my sister called back to say she had 2 hours to go home, pack and get to the airport. She found a sooner flight and she got in at 10:40pm. I told her I would get her, but prayed that she would make it in time.

The doctors ran more test, tried to find out the cause of the kidney failure and while my mother and I knew that it was a matter of days or hours, we let them do their tests to buy some time and make him comfortable and as stable as possible hoping my sister would made it off the plane in time.

My father was moved to the CCU of Saint Catherine's Hospital and although they have strict visiting hours, I think they understood the severity of the situation. As he had a private room, they allowed all family members in at all hours. There were 15 of us at one point and while they all came to pay their respects to my father and see him one last time, we also tried to make light of the situation and brought in a birthday cake for my mother. It was not the birthday I had envisioned for her and certainly not the birthday she had envisioned for herself, but it was the very least we could do.

As the hours went on, my father began having more difficulty breathing. He started to get nasty and was turning more and more yellow. I knew the toxins were building in his brain and it would not be long before a hepatic coma set in. He was in so much pain and his words began to slur and his voice got fainter and fainter. I thought if I told him my sister was on a plane that he would hang in there just a bit longer. He was trying to say something to me but I could not understand. I removed his oxygen mask and he said, "Give me some of the loopy stuff". He wanted morphine for the pain. I told my father that my sister was coming and to hold on and didn't he want to see her. I asked if he was in pain and he shook his head yes. I asked if it was in his abdomen which is what had been bothering him the last few days and he said, "Everywhere". Trying not to tear up, I explained that if they gave him something for the pain, it might make his heart stop and didn't he want to see his daughter one last time. I know that he did, but he was in so much pain that he said, "Make it stop".

My mother had actually just signed the DNR around this time. We explained to the medical staff that my sister was in flight and we did not want any heroic measures, but if they could keep him going just long enough for my sister to see him on last time. I told them he was in so much pain and once my sister got here and talked with him for a bit, could they make him comfortable. It had been decided that my father would be given a morphine drip and they were to set up hospice for the following day. We were holding off on giving him something now in fear my sister would not make it, but he was in so much pain. First we decided to let him die, and then we decided to make him suffer. After all I did to make him comfortable over the past weeks, here I was watching him in so much pain that he would rather die than see his daughter one last time and yet, I was letting him suffer. What kind of daughter was I?

As the hours went on, he got worse and worse. He did tell my brother that he loved him and was sorry he was so sick and it did not look as if he was going to make it to my brother's wedding. My brother, a big tough kid- husky and over 6 feet was breaking down in tears that no amount of hugging and encouraging words could console. At least my brother and sister got to hear their father tell him that he loved them one last time. As for me, I never got that chance.

Family was in and out. Around 8:30ish they all started to leave and say their good bye's. At this time, my mother was walking people out and there was a free moment with my father so I decided to sit and talk with him- tell him that I loved him and make my peace. I was hoping that he would tell me that he loved me too. You see my father was apparently very good at work- they all loved him and praised him, yet with his family, he was harsh, critical and you always felt as if you could never measure up. Recently people told me that he was so proud of his family and spoke of them often, but this was news to me. I knew my father was dying and before this, it was very much a love/ hate relationship. I loved him as a father, but hated him as a person. It took him dying to finally become human. Work, always his number one priority; his family always came second. Growing up feeling that your father did not love you was a horrible thing. Never hearing him say he was proud of you and always seeking his approval was heartbreaking.

Ironic that in the end as he got sicker, I bonded with him. He started saying things like, "please" and "thank you". He started asking if you could "please help him" and would say "sorry to be a bother to you again" - words he never used. For some reason he had a sense of entitlement - like the whole world owed him. As he got sicker, he became more humbled and started to recognize and admit openly that perhaps he was wrong for not putting his family first all these years. He started to tell me that he was so happy I was here to help and that he did not know what he would do without me. It took him 33 years to get to that point. I took him 33 years to finally admit that he was proud of me. After months of taking care of him so closely, I bonded with him in a way I never thought possible. I started to see another side of him that I had never seen before, but that side of him was short lived.

I know that deep down inside, he loves me, but I wanted to just hear him tell me....just one last time. But I would never hear him tell me those three simple words that carried such deep meaning. When I finally got a moment alone with my Father, I started talking to him. I asked if he could hear me but there was no response. I thought perhaps his voice was faint so I removed his oxygen mask and put my ear closer to him and asked one last time if he could hear me, but there was no reply. I replaced the oxygen mask and began to cry. I would never hear my father speak to me again. The last words I heard were of him asking me to "please fix his pillow" as he was so uncomfortable and in so much pain.

Perhaps my father could not hear me, but I began talking to him anyway. There are stories of people in comas that can hear or recognize voices, so while I was alone, I assumed that even though he would not answer me, he could hear me. I made my peace, asked him to please look out for me and to help me find my way and then I told him that I loved him. Shortly after, my mother returned and I told her that I would take a walk to stretch my legs but that she should sit with him and tell him what she needed to say. I returned about 15 minutes later and teary eyed, my mother looked at me and I said, "He did not respond, did he?" She began crying and shook her head NO. Later I learned that he most likely slipped into a coma around 8:30 or 9pm. He was just lying there, his eyes were open, he was not blinking, but he was peaceful. The nurse told us she thought he was no longer in pain and whether she was just saying that or it was true, I needed to believe it.

My heart was breaking. Although I had not heard the words I longed to hear, at least I was with my father when he was alert, my sister would not be so lucky. First her plane was to get in early, then it was running late. All the while praying she made it in time. As I sat there anxiously, I noticed his heart rate started to decline, his respirations were less and less, his pulse ox was not good and I knew it would not be long. All the sudden a text message came in- my sister's plane had landed. I stood up and went right over to my father and said, "Daddy, Jessie is here. Her plane landed. She is coming right over to see you, just hang in there Daddy- Jessie is on her way." I then told my brother to drive like the wind and make no stops along the way.

Around 11pm, my sister finally made it to the hospital. She looked at his monitors and commented that his heart rate of 99 was high, when in fact it was low. It had been as high as 150 earlier in the day. My sister started talking to him, telling him she loved him and then she placed something around his neck that she had blessed by a priest in Vegas for him. You see, anyone that wore this when then passed was to go straight to Heaven. So as she put it around his head, she said, "You hear that Daddy....you are going to go straight to Heaven."

In the last few weeks my father became very curious about death and Heaven. He told my mother and I that he had been a bad person- he worked too much and was never there for his family and he was so so sorry. He wanted to know the proper way to pray so that he could ask God for forgiveness to ensure he would go to Heaven when he died. So when my sister placed that thing she had blessed around his neck and told him he was going straight to Heaven, there was a blip on his monitor and I cried like I have never cried before because I knew how much that meant to him.

As we sat there for a few more minutes, I noticed his heart rate was now 95, then 92....88, 85, 80. His pulse ox dropped and his respiration number were decreasing significantly. I knew this was the time we had all been waiting for, yet the moment we were all dreading. I stood up and said, "I love you Daddy, We all love you". I then looked at my brother who was beside himself and said, "If anyone has anything they want to say, I think now would be the time." My brother looked up at me and said, "I can't". As the numbers got lower, my sister started telling my father she loved him and as the numbers got even lower, my brother finally stood up, came bedside and with tears coming down his face, he told his father that he loved him.

All of us with tears in our eyes, crying, telling my father we loved him and then it dawned on me and I looked over and saw the clock. It was 11:45pm on January the 13th. So I looked at the clock and then back at my father's monitor. His numbers were still dropping, digit, but digit. I reached over and rubbed my father on the leg and said, "Not yet Daddy, I know you have been through so much, but not yet. Just hang in there 15 minutes, please, just 15 minutes." Now everyone was crying and I kept watching the clock and watching the monitor. "OK Daddy, you can do it, just 10 more minutes- just hang in there 10 more minutes."

By this point my mother was crying, "He is going to die on my birthday" and I looked up at her and said, "No he is not". Looking back at the monitor, his pulse was now at 54. "Come on Daddy, you can do it, just 7 more minutes, then you can go...... just 7 more minutes." Everyone was crying and as I stood there instructing my father as to when he was permitted to die, his stats kept dropping. His pulse hit 23and my mother was hysterical. Being consoled by my brother who was a mess himself, She began to say, "He is going to die on my birthday".

In a stern voice I stood over my father and said, "NOT YET. After everything I did for you, this is the least you can do for me." All the sudden his monitor flickered and his heart rate went up to 80 and his respirations improved slightly. My brother stood up and said, "He hears you." and then he began, "Come on Dad, just 5 more minutes." His stats once again began dropping rapidly. My sister stood up, "Dad, you can do it, just a few more minutes please." My mother was in the chair hysterical crying and my future sister in law was hugging her. The numbers started going down, 40's in the 30's. My brother got back up and said in a stern and pissed off voice, "You have to be selfish right to the very end don't you?" And then as if my father heard this and did not like it, he responded with a blip on the monitor and his heart rate went back up into the 50's.

It wasn't long now, he was too unstable but he needed to hang in there just a few more minutes. It came close- very, very close. "One more minute Dad- you can do it. Just one more minute" We all told him we loved him and I asked him to watch over us..... (to haunt my ex- husband, but to watch over us). Then as I rubbed his leg and watched the monitors as his pulse was quickly getting to the single digits, I said, "Just hang in there, just 30 more seconds". Then "15 seconds Daddy, You can do it - PLEASE, just 15 seconds." Then "10 seconds" and as we all watched the monitor and the clock, "5 more seconds Daddy and then you can go". That was it- about 10 seconds after midnight, he passed with all three children, his wife and future daughter-in-law by his side. He got his wish, and he did not die alone.

My mother was crying, "HE DIED ON MY BIRTHDAY" and we all said, "No he didn't Mommy- look at the clock, it is after midnight. It is a new day- he did not die on your birthday." While my siblings comforted my mother, I walked out to the hurse's station and said, "I do not know who is in charge of making this official, but take some time- the death certificate has to say the 14th and not the 13th" ......and it does. His official death certificate reads January 14, 2010 at 12:10am.

I walked back into the room, removed all his oxygen masks and the pulse ox from his ear and I placed my hand over his face. I said "I love you" and as I ran my hand from his forehead down, I closed his eyes and noticed one little tear on the bridge of his nose. My sister ran over and openned the window to "let his soul be free" and then we all said good bye to my father.

When I left him in the hospital, he was skin and bones. He was jaundice, his hands and feet were purple from lack of circulation and I was so so sad knowing he had suffered so. This past Saturday and Sunday was his wake. He was dressed up, he had make-up on to cover the skin discoloration and they had padded his clothing to make it appear that he was not so sickly at the end. While he looked nothing like the lively man I knew growing up, he looked good compared to how I saw him last, but most importantly, he looked peaceful.

Today was his funeral. (Well technically yesterday since it is after midnight) Honestly, I thought it would be much, much worse. Maybe because I had my breakdown last night, or maybe because I knew his suffering was over, but it was not as bad as I thought it would be at all. His passing was oddly one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and I am so glad I was there with him. I am glad we were all there with him. What gives me comfort on this very difficult day is knowing that he is finally at peace, his suffering is over and hopefully, he is looking down upon me and he will help grace my life with many beautiful days and help me to see the rainbows of tomorrow.

I love you Daddy, you will never be forgotten and will be in my heart forever!

Note: This is blog is totally legal, Story copied from unknown publisher. Publisher has no issue / query for publishing it to tearsflow.blogspot.in, for any illegal activity tearsflow.blogspot.in will be responsible 

Thursday, January 19, 2012

A Little Boy And His Father - Touchy

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

SON: “Daddy, may I ask you a question?”

DAD: “Yeah sure, what is it?” replied the man.

SON: “Daddy, how much do you make an hour?”

DAD: “That’s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily.

SON: “I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?”

DAD: “If you must know, I make Rs.100 an hour.”

SON: “Oh,” the little boy replied, with his head down.

SON: “Daddy, may I please borrow Rs.50?”

The father was furious, “If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such this childish behavior.”

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy’s questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?

After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down and started to think: May be there was something he really needed to buy with that Rs..50 and he really didn’t ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy’s room and opened the door. “Are you asleep, son?” He asked.

“No daddy, I’m awake,” replied the boy..

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier” said the man.

“It’s been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the Rs.50 you asked for.”

The little boy sat straight up, smiling. “Oh, thank you daddy!” He yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father..

“Why do you want more money if you already have some?” the father grumbled.

“Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do,” the little boy replied.

“Daddy, I have Rs. 100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?

Please come home early tomorrow I would like to have dinner with you”

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.

It’s just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts.

Do remember to share that Rs.100 worth of your time with someone you love.

If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days.

But the family friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family...

Note: This is blog is totally legal, Story copied from unknown publisher. Publisher has no issue / query for publishing it to tearsflow.blogspot.in, for any illegal activity tearsflow.blogspot.in will be responsible 

A Sad Love Story - It Will Touch Your Heart Deeply

A Sad Love Story telling us not to be afraid of expressing our Feelings.

I have a boyfriend who grew up with me. His name is Jin. I always thought of him as a frien until last year, when we went to a trip from a club. I found that I fell in love with him. Before tha trip was over, I took a step and confessed my love for him. And soon, we became a pair o lovers, but we loved each other in different ways. I always concentrated on him only, but b his side, there were so many other girls. To me, he was the only one, but to him, maybe I was just another girl…

“Jin, do you want to go watch a movie?” I asked.“I can’t”
“Why? You need to study at home?” I felt disappointment grabbing me.
“No… I am going to meet a friend…

He was always like that. He met girls in front of me, like it was nothing. To him, I was just a girlfriend. The word ‘love’ only came out from my mouth. Since I knew him, I had never heard him say ‘I love you’ before. To us, there weren’t any anniversaries at all. He didn’t say anything from the first day and it continued till 100 days…200days… Everyday, before we say goodbye, he would just hand me a doll, everyday, without fail. I don’t know why…

Then one day…
Me: Um, Jin, I …
Jin: What…don’t drag, just say..
Me: I love you.
Jin: ……you….um, just take this doll and go home.
That was how he ignored my ‘three words’ and handed me the doll. Then he disappeared, like he was running away. The dolls I received from him everyday, filled my room, one by one. There were many…

Then one day came, my 15th year old birthday. When I got up in the morning, I pictured a party with him, and stranded myself in my room, waiting for his call. But… lunch passed, dinner passed… and soon the sky was dark… he still didn’t call. It was already tiring to look at the phone anymore. Then around 2am in the morning, he suddenly called me and woke me from my sleep. He told me to come out of the house. Still, I felt joy and I ran out happily.

Me: Jin…
Jin: Here…take this…
Again, he handed me a little doll.
Me: What’s this?
Jin: I didn’t give it to you yesterday, so I am giving it to you now. I’m going home now, bye.
Me: Wait, wait! Do you know what today is?
Jin: Today? Huh?
I felt so sad, I thought he would remember my birthday. He turned around and walked away like nothing had happen. Then I shouted… “Wait…”
Jin: You have something to say?
Me: Tell me, tell me you love me…
Jin: What?!
Me: Tell me

I put my pathetic self behind and clung on to him. But he just said simple cold words and left.
“I don’t want to say…that I love someone so easily, if you are desperate to hear it, then find someone else.”
That was what he said. Then he ran off. My legs felt numb… and I collapsed to the ground. He didn’t want to say it easily… How could he…. I felt that… Maybe he is not the right guy for me…
After that day, I stranded myself at home crying, just crying. He didn’t call me, although I was waiting. He just continued handing me a little doll every morning outside my house. That’s how those dolls piled up in my room… everyday
After a month, I got myself together and went to school. But what made the pain resurface was that… I saw him on a street… with another girl… He had a smile on his face, one that he never showed me…as he touched the doll… I ran straight back home and looked at the dolls in my room, and tears fell… Why did he gave these to me… Those dolls are probably picked out by some other girls…In a fit of anger, I threw the dolls around. Then suddenly, the phone rang. It was him. He told me to come out to the bus stop outside my house. I tried to calm myself down and walked to the bus stop. I kept reminding myself that I am going to forget him, that… it’s going to end. Then he came into my sight, holding a big doll.
Jin: Jo, I thought you were pissed, you really came?
I couldn’t help hating him, acting like nothing had happen and joking around. Soon, he held out the doll as usual…
Me: I don’t need it.
Jin: What….why…
I grabbed the doll from his hands and threw it on the road.
Me: I don’t need this doll, I don’t need it anymore!! I don’t want to see a person like you again!
I spitted out all the words that were inside me. But unlike other days, his eyes very shaking.
“I’m sorry” He apologized in a tiny voice. He then walked over to the road to pick up the doll…
Me: You stupid! Why are you picking up the doll?! Just throw it away!!!

But he ignored me and just went to pick the doll. Then…

Honk~ Honk~
With a loud honk, a big truck was heading towards him.
“Jin! Move! Move away!” I shouted… But he didn’t hear me, he squatted down and picked up the doll.
“Jin, move!” HONK~!! “Boom!” That sound, so terrifying.
That’s how he went away from me. That’s how he went away without even opening his eyes to say one word to me.
After that day, I had to go through everyday with guiltiness and the sadness of losing him… And after spending two months like a crazy person… I took out the dolls.
Those were the only gifts he left me since the day we started going out. I remembered the days I spent with him and started to count the days… when we were in love…

“One…two… three…” That was how… I started to count the dolls…
“Four hundred and eighty four… four hundred and eighty five…” It all ended with 485 dolls.
I then started to cry again, with a doll in my arms. I hugged it tightly, then suddenly…

“I love you~, I love you~” I dropped the dolls, shocked.

“I….lo..ve…you??” I picked up the dolls and pressed its stomach.

“I love you~ I love you~” It can’t be! I pressed all the dolls’ stomach as it piled on the side.
“I love you~”
“I love you~”
“I love you~”
Those words came out non-stop. I…love you… Why didn’t I realize that….That his heart was always by my side, protecting me. Why didn’t I realize that he love me this much… I took out the doll under the bed and pressed it’s stomach, that was the last doll, the one that fell on the road. It had his blood stain on it. The voice came out, the on that I was missing so much.

“Jo…Do you know what today is? We’ve been loving each other for 486 days. Do you know what 486 is? I couldn’t say I love you…. Um… since I was too shy… If you forgive me and take this doll, I will say that I love you… everyday… till I die… Jo… I love you…”

The tears came flowing out of me. Why? Why? I asked god, why do I only know about all this now? He can’t be by my side, but he loved me until his last minute…

For that… and for that reason… to me… it became courage… to live a beautiful life….

Note: This is blog is totally legal, Story copied from unknown publisher. Publisher has no issue / query for publishing it to tearsflow.blogspot.in, for any illegal activity tearsflow.blogspot.in will be responsible 

True Love - I Did

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene of ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water. We had a kid, I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school. Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her. Dew said, "You are the kind of man who best draws girl's eyeballs." Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we just married, my wife said "Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls." Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help doing so.

I moved Dew's hands aside and said, "You go to select some furniture, O.K.? I've got something to do in the company." Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised her to go and see with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me. However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together or, I was lounging before the computer, visualising Dew's body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slight joking way. "Suppose we divorce, what will you do?" She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me. "He Ning, divorce her, O.K.?" Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. "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 to divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly. She didn't seem to be much annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, "Why?" I'm serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer turned her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me. "You are not a man!" At 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, because my heart had gone to Dew.

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. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said. 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.

A late night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again. She brought up her divorce conditions. She didn't want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month's time before divorce, and in the month's time we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason was simple. Our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn't want him to see our marriage broken. She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, "He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day?" This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, "I remember." "You carried me in your arms." She continued, "So, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning." I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage with a romantic form.

I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. "No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce." She said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy 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. "Let us start from today, don't tell our son." I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for bus, I drove to office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realised that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

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 visualisation of Dew became vaguer.

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 fatter." I smiled. But I suddenly realised 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 was lack of such 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. Then she touched my forehead, "You got no fever." I moved her hand off my head. "Sorry, Dew. 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 cry. 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 favourite. The salesgirl asked me to write the greeting words on the card. I smiled and wrote. "I'll carry you out every morning until we are old."


Note: This is blog is totally legal, Story copied from unknown publisher. Publisher has no issue / query for publishing it to tearsflow.blogspot.in, for any illegal activity tearsflow.blogspot.in will be responsible 

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

A Beautiful Love Story Which Will Touch Your Heart

There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl.

Although, at that time he was just a small fry in his company, his future didn't seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so they went their own ways there and then...


Heartbroken, the guy agreed. But when he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself.

Finally with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company .

You never fail until you stop trying. One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realize they were his girl's parents.

With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same any more; he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He made it! What he saw next confused him, the couple was walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and followed...and he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right beside her...

Her parents saw him. He asked them why this had happened. They explained, she did not leave for France at all. She was ill with cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want to be his obstacle... therefore she had chosen to leave him.


Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again...he can take some of those back with him...


Once you have loved, you will always love. For what's in your mind may escape but what's in your heart will remain forever.


The guy just wept...The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside her knowing you can't have her, see her or be with her ever again....... ..hope you understand.


Find time to realize that there is one person who means so much to you, for you might wake up one morning losing that person who you thought meant nothing to you.

--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." -- Karl, 5 years old, when asked, "What does love mean?"

Note: This is blog is totally legal, Story copied from unknown publisher. Publisher has no issue / query for publishing it to tearsflow.blogspot.in, for any illegal activity tearsflow.blogspot.in will be responsible 

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

A Beautiful True Love Story

One day, a young guy and a young girl fell in love.

But the guy came from a poor family. The girl’s parents weren’t too happy.

So the young man decided not only to court the girl but to court her parents as well. In time, the parents saw that he was a good man and was worthy of their daughter’s hand.

But there was another problem: The man was a soldier. Soon, war broke out and he was being sent overseas for a year. The week before he left, the man knelt on his knee and asked his lady love, “Will you marry me?” She wiped a tear, said yes, and they were engaged. They agreed that when he got back in one year, they would get married.

But tragedy struck. A few days after he left, the girl had a major vehicular accident. It was a head-on collision.

When she woke up in the hospital, she saw her father and mother crying. Immediately, she knew there was something wrong.

She later found out that she suffered brain injury. The part of her brain that controlled her face muscles was damaged. Her once lovely face was now disfigured. She cried as she saw herself in the mirror. “Yesterday, I was beautiful. Today, I’m a monster.” Her body was also covered with so many ugly wounds.

Right there and then, she decided to release her fiancĂ© from their promise. She knew he wouldn’t want her anymore. She would forget about him and never see him again.

For one year, the soldier wrote many letters—but she wouldn’t answer. He phoned her many times but she wouldn’t return her calls.

But after one year, the mother walked into her room and announced, “He’s back from the war.”

The girl shouted, “No! Please don’t tell him about me. Don’t tell him I’m here!”

The mother said, “He’s getting married,” and handed her a wedding invitation.

The girl’s heart sank. She knew she still loved him—but she had to forget him now.

With great sadness, she opened the wedding invitation.

And then she saw her name on it!

Confused, she asked, “What is this?”

That was when the young man entered her room with a bouquet of flowers. He knelt beside her and asked, “Will you marry me?”

The girl covered her face with her hands and said, “I’m ugly!”

The man said, “Without your permission, your mother sent me your photos. When I saw your photos, I realized that nothing has changed. You’re still the person I fell in love. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Because I love you!”

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Friday, January 13, 2012

Attitude and its importance …

An old man lived alone in a village. He wanted to spade his potato garden, but it was very hard work. His only son, who would have helped him, was in prison.
The old man wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his situation:
Dear Son,
I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my potato garden this year. I hate to miss doing the garden, because your mother always loved planting time. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren’t in prison.
Love,
Dad
Shortly, the old man received this telegram: ‘For Heaven’s sake, Dad, don’t dig up the garden!! That’s where I buried the GUNS!!’ At 4 a.m. the next morning, a dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns.
Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what happened, and asked him what to do next.
His son’s reply was: ‘Go ahead and plant your potatoes, Dad.. It’s the best I could do for you from here.’
Moral:
NO MATTER WHERE YOU ARE IN THE WORLD, IF YOU HAVE DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING DEEP FROM YOUR HEART YOU CAN DO IT. IT IS THE THOUGHT THAT MATTERS.. NOT WHERE YOU ARE OR WHERE THE PERSON IS….

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Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Broken Promises

Married 11 years. This is my one and only love. He proposed to me on a playground. This was the man who taught me the meaning of love. We were a part of what God truly meant to be as husband and wife. My best friend, an aura of comfort as I held him in my arms. Every physical and spiritual fulfillment in a man I ever wanted. Not once did I want anyone else. No one could take his place.

We were to renew our vows. I practiced for months, my new vows-I would repeat them in the car, or in the grocery store silently. I could not wait to begin our next years with good histories, and good hearts. To show him in renewed vows how over many years, ups and downs, I held solid in my devotion.

And then promises were broken.

At first I focused mainly on how I couldn't even breathe without him. A pattern of hurtful words, plans never made and even an affair. I endured pulling him back from someone else's arms, his eyes so sincere with lies, his words so very melodical and spellbinding. I listened believing every word he said. I crushed every time he entered a room. I could not see or believe what was going on. No Christmas presents, no birthday presents, no anniversary plans carried through, talking to me like I was a stranger, a list too long to share.

I often asked myself, 'What did I do?' or 'Why did he do this?' It took a while for me to figure this out. He had changed. I did not change. My love was still strong. I could battle all external things, but not the man himself.

His last promise he made was that he was going to come back to me and we would live together always, never to be apart, grow old together. He told me he cried when he thought of what a mistake it was he said by telling me goodbye two days after Christmas. Then just weeks ago he tells me that his job has become more important and he knows I have a job that I finally have after years of looking. When a man picks a job over his wife...well it's time to leave. But that's not the worst promise broken.

The one thing I asked him not to break was that I asked him not to put me through any more pain. This was my final outcome.

I took the final step and decided to walk away. I am ready now. He has lost the one thing he should have never let go of. I think I deserve better. I am the one who has no guilt, or remorse. And it takes my own strength to break the chains I put on myself by loving a man and forgetting to respect myself.

There is strength in the power of goodbye, it all begins with courage.

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A Beautiful Rose That Has Withered Away

She was sitting there. in the front row of the classroom.. She was the hyperactive chatty gal that I would love to loathe...

At first sight, there was simply nothing extraordinary about her. I was annoyed at her seemingly uncontrollable mischievous personality. But then again, I looked beyond that and recognized her warm and mature personality... And that her large brown eyes enthralled me....Captivating me with her sweet and jovial smile...

I fell in love with her........

There was only one thing I can... and must... do... I gotta let her know how I feel.. I did, and that's the start of a wonderful, forever lasting love... or at least that's what I thought.

Those were the happiest times of my life. I would call her numerous times a day..... Life for me was heavenly. I had always dreamt of loving my other significant half to the max, even when I was a young child. This was a dream come true for me. She was almost the perfect girl I had dreamt about before. She loved me as much as I love her (I still do...). I would embrace her tightly to feel her warmth and kiss softly on her forehead. I long to be with her forever. Words alone could not describe the blissful times I had with her. Her distinctive voice would just banish my blues away. We never squabbled before. Life is truly a heaven to experience such a true love. For me, true love is always 0.1% lust, 0.9% attraction and 99.0% appreciation. I had always appreciated her and so did she.

Those times went on for 2 years. But then, the inevitable happened. She became aloof, unresponsive and her cheerful disposition had diminished. "What happened to her"? I asked myself...Gradually, she lessen her phone calls to me. I tried coaxing her to talk to me but to no avail. Then, after weeks of coaxing, she finally told me that she had changed (she didn't know why, it just came all of a sudden). She told me that our characters do not match and sad to say that we should not continue the relationship. She implied that I'm a person who does not care much about the world around me (which is quite true as I don't trust friends and I'm quite a loner) She also said that there are small little things that also add up to her unhappiness. I was devastated... I didn't know that she felt that way all this time... Well, I knew about my weaknesses but I thought that she accepted them. I cried and pleaded her to stay on with me but to no avail as it was only the most sensible thing for a matured person (such as herself) to do. She said that its better for us to separate rather than go deeper into an unhappy relationship than is doomed to failure (which is, sad to say, true). I am still in a deep depressed state. Its been 4 months since she broke up with me...

How I hope to be with her again. Its actually not her fault. She was doing the only sensible thing (to break up before we go any deeper). Sometimes, I feel like life's fragile.....

A beautiful thing like love can be ended abruptly Feels like a precious thing had been taken away from me...

Just like a beautiful rose that withered away....

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