Showing posts with label My Information. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Information. Show all posts

Thursday, February 10, 2011

每朵玫瑰和颜色的含义




玫瑰( 红) : 热恋、深爱着你、相爱、真心实意。 
玫瑰(粉红): 初恋、感动、爱的宣言、铭记于心。 
玫瑰(粉): 永远的爱、特别的关怀。 
玫瑰(白): 纯纯的爱、天真、纯洁、尊敬、高贵。 
玫瑰( 黄) : 失恋、褪去的爱、道歉。 
玫瑰(黑色): 有个性和创意。 
玫瑰(蓝紫色):珍贵、珍稀。 
玫瑰(橙黄色):富有青春气息、美丽。 
玫瑰(绿白色):纯真、俭朴或赤子之心。 
玫瑰(双色): 矛盾或兴趣较多。 
玫瑰(橙红色):初恋的心情。

玫瑰颜色丰富,不同颜色有着不同的寓意: 
玫瑰花语---初恋 红玫瑰花语---热恋 橙红色玫瑰花语---羞怯 
黄玫瑰花语---道歉 白玫瑰花语---尊敬 淡绿色玫瑰花语---青春长驻 



玫瑰数的含意如下:

  1朵玫瑰代表——我的心中只有你 ONLY YOU!
  2朵玫瑰代表——这世界只有我俩!
  3朵玫瑰代表——我爱你 I LOVE YOU!
  4朵玫瑰代表——至死不渝
  5朵玫瑰代表——由衷欣赏!
  6朵玫瑰代表——互敬 互爱 互谅! 
  7朵玫瑰代表——我偷偷地爱著你!
  8朵玫瑰代表——感谢你的关怀扶持及鼓励!
  9朵玫瑰代表——长久 ALWAYS!
 10朵玫瑰代表——十全十美 无懈可击
 11朵玫瑰代表——最爱 只在乎你一人!
 12朵玫瑰代表——对你的爱与日俱增!
 13朵玫瑰代表——友谊长存!
 14朵玫瑰代表——骄傲!
 15朵玫瑰代表——对你感到歉意I'M SORRY!
 16朵玫瑰代表——多变不安的爱情!
 17朵玫瑰代表——绝望无可挽回的爱!
 18朵玫瑰代表——真诚与坦白!
 19朵玫瑰代表——忍耐与期待!
 20朵玫瑰代表——我仅一颗赤诚的心! 
 21朵玫瑰代表——真诚的爱!
 22朵玫瑰代表——祝你好运!
 25朵玫瑰代表——祝你幸福!
 30朵玫瑰代表——信是有缘!
 36朵玫瑰代表——浪漫!
 40朵玫瑰代表——誓死不渝的爱情!
 50朵玫瑰代表——邂逅不期而遇!
 99朵玫瑰代表——天长地久 FOREVER!
100朵玫瑰代表——百分之百的爱 100% LOVE!
101朵玫瑰代表——最……最爱!
108朵玫瑰代表——求 婚!
999朵玫瑰代表——我家有钱,呵呵

每个月的14号分别叫什么情人节?


★1月14日 日记情人节(Diary Day)
在这一天,情侣们会互相赠足够记录一整年恋爱情事的日记本,以次象征两人将携手走过未
来一年,并留下更多美好的回忆.

★2月14日 华仑亭情人节(Valentine's Day)
西元3世纪,罗马皇帝为避免已婚男子不愿离家当兵,发布了一道禁止结婚的法令,但华仑亭
主教依旧违背皇帝旨意,秘密为年轻人举行婚礼.他因此遭到监禁,并于西元273年2月14日死
在狱中.后人为了纪念他,将他殉难这天定为"华仑亭日",后来便成为世人耳熟能详的情人节
.

在美国,华仑亭日不仅是年轻人的节日,亲人朋友也可以互送礼物,以表达感情,增进友谊.对
许多亚洲女仔而言,这一天显得格外重要,女孩子在这天主动向心仪的对象示好.

★3月14日 白色情人节(White Day)
在东方,2月14日女孩送男孩礼物表达情意后,如果对方也有同样的好感,就会在今天回送女
孩一份情人礼物,表示彼此心心相印;如果男孩对女孩没感觉,只要刻意忽略这个日子,便算
是婉微拒绝.

★4月14日 黑色情人节(Black Day)
虽然并非天下有情人都能天长地久,甚至曾经拥有,但谁说孤家寡人就不能过情人节?黑色情
人节就是属于单身贵族们的情人日.在前两个月他们或许没有收到甜蜜小礼物,也没人送巧
克力.但今天,大家共聚一堂,彼此鼓励,加油打气.

黑色情人节这一天,打算过节的人会让自己生活在百分百黑色世界里,穿黑色套装,黑帽子,
黑皮鞋,吃黑豆制成的面条,喝咖啡也不加奶精,享受黑咖啡的苦涩原味.

★5月14日 黄色与玫瑰情人节(Yellow and Rose Day)
如果已经到了5月,你的情事还没任何进展,在这一天穿黄色衬衫或黄色套装,吃黄色咖喱饭
,就是告诉大家" I am still available"的最好暗示.

5月是玫瑰发芽的时节,气候宜人适合出游,因此许多情侣都选在这天相挟到户外踏青.所以
也有玫瑰情人节之称.

在玫瑰日送人红玫瑰是倾诉爱意,送白玫瑰表示仍犹豫未决,若送上一束黄玫瑰,就是说再见
了.

★6月14日 亲吻情人节(Kiss Day)
这是一个属于成双成对恋人的重要节日,在这一天,情侣们不必再害羞,可以大大方方地用亲
吻表达对对方的爱意.当然,花前月下,烛光晚餐等浪漫气氛,对这一吻定情可是很有帮助的
喔.

★7月14日 银色情人节(Silver Day)
银色情人节,是把你的意中人带回家给老爸老妈认识,或介绍给其他你所尊敬的长辈的好机
会.当然,这一天的全部开销,都由这些可爱的长辈买单.银色情人节也是爱侣互相赠送银制
礼品,饰物的日子.

★8月14日 绿色情人节(Green Day)
名为绿色情人节,当然和森林脱不了关系,酷热难耐的夏日午后,不妨和你的另一半作一趟凉
爽而清新的森林之旅,尽情享受户外大自然,度过健康而愉悦的一天.还在寻觅爱侣的人,可
以参加soju派对,度过喧闹的室内绿色情人节.

★9月14日 音乐情人节与相片情人节(Music Day&Photo Day)
音乐情人节这一天是举办大型社交活动,轻歌曼舞的日子,也是将你的心上人介绍给朋友,同
事认识的好机会.而单身一族,更可以借此机会看看活动现场有没有自己心仪的对象.

许多情侣喜欢在这天就蔚蓝清朗的天空合影,所以又叫做相片情人节.

★10月14日 葡萄情人节(Wine Day)
这一天恋人们饮着葡萄美酒,庆祝充满诗意的秋天.通常小两口会选择在浪漫而别致的餐厅
里共进晚餐.然后聊聊彼此对未来的规划,以及共同的目标等话题.

★11月14日 橙色情人节与电影情人节(Orange Day & Movie Day)
这一天情侣们可以连赶两场电影,或许先看一步紧张刺激的动作发泄压力,然后再来一部感
人肺腑的浪漫爱情片.看完两人也该补充水分了.来杯健康的百分百柳橙汁吧.

★12月14日 拥抱情人节(Hug Day)
这一天,想和你的情人抱多久都可以,在公开的场合拥抱,向世人宣告两人的爱意,也让寒冷
的冬天变得格外温馨.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Funny Language - English

ONLY THE BRITISH COULD HAVE INVENTED THIS LANGUAGE

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England ..
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
we find that quicksand can work slowly,
boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns
down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out,
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

And, in closing, if Father is Pop, how come Mother's not Mop?

I WOULD LIKE TO ADD THAT IF PEOPLE FROM POLAND ARE CALLED POLES, THEN
PEOPLE FROM HOLLAND SHOULD BE HOLES AND FROM GERMANY GERMS!!!

Which reminds me of a story. There was a boy whose father was a stickler for
correct English. The boy wanted a pair of mongooses as pets and wrote to his
father: "Dear dad, please send me two mongooses, love, son". It didn't sound
right so he re-wrote the letter: "Dear dad, please send me two mongeese,
love, son". It still didn't sound right and knowing his father's penchant
for correct English, he sent this letter finally: "Dear dad, please send me
a mongoose, love, son. P.S. On second thoughts, better make it two"




M.K.Dave
CEO
AML MOTORS
8-2-248/1/7/13,Nagarjuna Circle,
Punjagutta,Hyderabad 500 004.
Ph. 04030222333
Handheld: +919849285706

Saturday, October 30, 2010

So very true... The last line

Happiness...... What is Happiness? 

One on the most convincing pieces on happiness.

Khushwant Singh at his best. The rationale applied to each preference is absolutely top class.

EIGHT CLUES TO HAPPINESS

By- KHUSHWANT SINGH

Having lived a reasonably contented life, I was musing over what a person should strive for to achieve
happiness. I drew up a list of a few essentials which I put forward for the readers' appraisal.

1. First and foremost is GOOD HEALTH. If you do not enjoy good health you can never be happy. Any ailment, however trivial, will deduct from your happiness. 

2. Second, A HEALTHY BANK BALANCE. It need not run into crores but should be enough to provide for creature comforts and something to spare for recreation, like eating out, going to the pictures, travelling or going on holidays on the hills or by the sea. Shortage of money can be only demoralizing. Living on credit
or borrowing is demeaning and lowers one in one's own eyes.

3. Third, A HOME OF YOUR OWN. Rented premises can never give you the snug feeling of a nest which is yours for keeps that a home provides: if it has a garden space, all the better. Plant your own trees and flowers, see them grow and blossom, cultivate a sense of kinship with them.

4. Fourth, AN UNDERSTANDING COMPANION, be it your spouse or a friend. If there are too many
misunderstandings, they will rob you of your peace of mind. It is better to be divorced than to bicker all the time.

5. Fifth, LACK OF ENVY towards those who have done better than you in life; risen higher, made more money, or earned more fame. Envy can be very corroding; avoid comparing
yourself with others.

6. Sixth, DO NOT ALLOW OTHER PEOPLE to descend on you for gup-shup. By the time you get rid of them, you will feel exhausted and poisoned by their gossip-mongering.

7. Seventh, CULTIVATE SOME HOBBIES which can bring you a sense of fulfilment, such as gardening, reading, writing, painting, playing or listening to music. Going to clubs or parties to get free drinks or to meet celebrities is criminal waste of time.

8. Eighth, every morning and evening, devote 15 minutes to INTROSPECTION. In the morning, 10 minutes should be spent on stilling the mind and then five in listing things you have to do that day. In the evening, five minutes to still the mind again, and ten to go over what you had undertaken to do.

RICHNESS is not Earning More, Spending More Or Saving  More, but ...

"RICHNESS IS WHEN YOU NEED NO MORE"

What you scatter tells what kind of life you have lived

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'
'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good.'

'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'

'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time..'

'Good... Anything I can help you with?'


'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas..'
'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr.Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'  

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller.

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked.

'Not zackley but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.

With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever.

When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and    moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.

They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho .'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral :

We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.



Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles

~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself.....

An unexpected phone call from an old friend ....

Green stoplights on your way to work...

The fastest line at the grocery store...

A good sing-along song on the radio...

Your keys found right where you left them.



Send this to the people you'll never forget.


 
I just did....
If you don't send it to anyone, it means you are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the ordinary miracles when they occur..

IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT  TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED!

History of S'pore - Ah Beng's Version


 ** U WILL ENJOY IF U UNDERSTAND HOCKKIEN **

Ah Beng talks about Singapore History & Current Affairs...

Under the 'Ang Mo' we all live happily together, no complain.
Malaysia & Singapore is one big family in our brains.
One day we both like two durians cannot get along.
Got sharp thorns, poke each other until 'Buay Song'
One moment like brothers, can give and take.
Next moment we kena kicked out by the leg.
Wah! Our towkay also cry like mad,
We all also feel very very sad.
Our neigbours all say, 'Wah they all sure to die!
They got nothing, how to get next bowl of rice?'
So 'Boh Pian,' we all work day and night.
We also join the army so that we can fight.
We don't care others 'see us no up'.
But actually inside we very pain in the heart.
Then slowly hor we grow rich and a bit fat.
Now others talk about us also got some respect.
They scratch their heads and say 'Very funny!
Got nothing how come they can still make money?'

Last time also got no money to buy ice-cream cone.
Nowadays even small kids can also afford handphone.
Seaport, airport also can become Number One.
He! He! Sometimes think about it also very fun.
But some people look at us also not happy.
Actually they jealous don't want to say only.
So every time their country got something wrong.
They all say Singapore's behind it all along.
Everybody know we water no enough.
They turn off tap only we all cannot last.

They threaten us with water supply and shout 'Cut! Cut! Cut!'
Aiyoh! They all think the water is one big ketupat.
We all hear already also Buay Tahan'
Wah liao, they think we small can makan!
But now they 'cow pay cow bu' we all not very scared.
We want to build water desalination plant already so not so bad.
But their own economy now all go bust.
Got to sell water otherwise money no enough.
Then another neighbor say Singapore no friend friend,
Got so much money, a bit more also donno how to lend.

They say we all only one small red dot,
Like the center of a big dartboard.
Maybe they think we mouse and they cat,
That's why they suka suka anyhow talk like that.
But we all still send them a lot of rice.
Show the world we actually very very nice.
Sometimes we 'Cho Ho Sim' also kena whack.
But we all gentleman wan, don't want to fight back.
I think hor maybe they don't understand us very well.
That's why relationship sometimes like heaven sometimes like hell
Some say aiyah our prosperity is all due to luck,
That's why we all 'Siao Siao' can still win the Tiger Cup
I think hor, Singapore is like Chilli Padi in a pot -
Size small small but still very very hot.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Grudges Between Husband and Wife - A True Story

This is a true story which has touched many readers.
As it is quite a long story, reserve it (if you haven't got the time) and read it only when you are in a more relaxed mood.

In either case, do make it a point to savour everyline until the end.
This is for all the single, married, divorced, widowed individuals, who take life for granted.

Please, read this story until the end. It is such an eye opener.
You never Know.........!

Just two years after our marriage, hubby brought up the idea of asking Mother to move from the rural hometown and spend her remaining years with us.

Hubby's father passed away while he was still very young. Mother endured much hardship and struggled all on her own to provide for him, see him through to a university degree.

You could say that she suffered a great deal and did everything you could expect of a woman to bring hubby to where he is today.

I immediately agreed and started packing the spare room, which has a balcony facing the South to let her enjoy the sunshine and plant greenery.

Hubby stood in the bright room, and suddenly just picked me up and started spinning round and round.

As I begged him to put me down, he said: "Lets go fetch mother." Hubby is tall and big sized and I love to test on his chest and enjoy the feeling that he could pick me up at any moment put the tiny me into his pockets.

Whenever we have an argument and both refuses to back down, he would pick me up and spin me over his head continuously until I surrender and beg for mercy. 

I became addicted to this kind of panic-joy feeling.

Mother brought along her countryside habits and lifestyle with her.

For example; I am so used to buying flowers to decorate the living room, she could not stand it and would comment:

"I do not know how you young people spend your money, why do you buy flowers for?

You also can't eat flowers!" I smiled and said: "Mum, with flowers in the house, our mood will also become better."

Mother continues to grumble away, and hubby smiled: "Mum, this is a city-people's habit; slowly you will get use to it."

Mother stopped saying anything. But every time thereafter, whenever came home with flowers, she would ask me how much it costs.

I told her and she would shake her head and express displeasure.

Sometimes, when I come home with lots of shopping bags, she would ask each and every item how much they cost, I would tell her honestly and she would get even more upset about it.

Hubby playfully pinched my nose and said: "You little fool, just don't tell her the full price of everything would solve it."

There begins the friction to our otherwise happy lifestyle.

Mother hates it most when hubby wakes up early to prepare the breakfast.

In your view, how could the man of the house cook for the wife?

At the breakfast table, mother facial expression is always like the dark clouds before a thunderstorm and I would pretend not to notice.
  
She would use her chopsticks and make a lot of noise with it as her silent protest.

As I am a dance teacher in the Children's Palace and am exhausted from along day of dancing around, I do not wish to give up the luxury of that additional few minutes in the comfort of my bed and hence I turned a deaf ear to all the protest mother makes.

From time to time, mother would help out with some housework, but soon her help created additional
work for me.

For example: she would keep all kinds of plastic bags accumulating them so that she sell them later on, and resulted in our house being filled with all the trash bags; she would scrimp on dish washing detergent when helping to wash the dishes and so as not to hurt her feelings, I would quietly wash them again.

One day, late at night, mother saw me quietly washing the dishes, and "Bam" she slams her bedroom door and cried very loudly in her room.

Hubby was placed in a difficult position, and after that, he did not speak to me for that entire night.

I pretended to be a spoilt child, tried acting cute, but he totally ignored me....

I got mad and asked him: "What did I do wrong?" Hubby stared at me and said: "Can't you just give in to her once?

We couldn't possibly die eating from a bowl however unclean it is, right?"

After that incident, for a long period of time, mother did not speak to me and you can feel that there is a very awkward feeling hanging in the house.

During that period of cold war, hubby was caught in dilemma as to who to please.

In order to stop her son from having to prepare breakfast, mother took on the "all important" task of preparing breakfast without any prompting.

At the breakfast table, mother would look at hubby happily eating his breakfast and cast that reprimanding stare at me for having failed to perform my duty as a wife.

To avoid the embarrassing breakfast situation, I resorted to buying my own breakfast on my way to work.

That night, while in bed, hubby was a little upset and asked me:
"LD, is it because you think that mum's cooking is not clean that's why you chose not to eat at home?"

He then turned his back on me and left me alone in tears as feeling of unfairness overwhelmed me.

After some time, hubby sighed: "LD, just for me, can you have breakfast at home?"

I am left with no choice but to return to the breakfast table.

The next morning, I was having porridge prepared by mother and I felt a sudden churn in my stomach and everything inside seem to be rushing up my throat.

I tried to suppress the urge to throw up but I could not.

I threw down the bowl, rushed into the washroom, and vomited everything out..

Just as I was catching my breath, I saw mother crying and grumbling very loudly in her dialect, hubby was standing at the washroom doorway staring at me with fire burning in his eyes..

I opened my mouth but no words came out of it, I really did not mean it.

We had our very first big fight that day; mother took a look at us, then stood up and slowly made her way out of the house.

Hubby gave me a final stare in the eye and followed mother down the stairs.

For three days, hubby did not return home, not even a phone call.

I was so furious, since mother arrived; I had been trying my best and putting up with her, what else do you want me to do?

For no reason, I keep having the feeling to throw up and I simply have not appetite for food, coupled with all the events happening at home, I was at then low point in my life..

Finally, a colleague said: "LD, you look terri ble; you should go and see a doctor."

The doctor confirmed that I am pregnant.

Now it became clear to me why I threw up that fateful morning, a sense of sadness floated through that otherwise happy news.

Why didn't hubby, and mother who had been through this before, thought of the possibility of this being the reason that day?

At the hospital entrance, I saw my hubby standing there.

It had only been three days, but he looked haggard. I had wanted to turn and leave, but one look at him and my heart soften, I couldn't resist and called out to him.

He followed my voice and finally found me but he pretended that he doesn't know me; he has that disgusted look in his eyes that cut right through my heart.

I told myself not to look at him anymore, and hail a cab.

At that moment, I have such a strong urge inside me to shout to my hubby: "Darling, I am having your baby!" and have him lift me up and spin me around in circ les of joy.
 
What I wanted didn't happen and as I sat in the cab, my tears started rolling down.

Why? Why our love couldn't even withstand the test of one fight?

Back home, I lay on the bed thinking about my hubby, and the disgusted look in his eyes.

I cried and wet the corner of the blanket.

That night, sound of the drawers opening woke me up.

I switched on the lights and I saw hubby with tears rolling down his face.

He was removing the money. I stared at him in silence; he ignored me, took the bank deposit book and some money and left the house.

Maybe he really intends to leave me for good.

What a rational man, so clear-cut in love and money matters.

I gave a few dried laugh and tears starting streaming down again.

The next day, I did not go to work. I wanted to clear this out and have a good talk with hubby.

I reached his office and his secretary gave me a weird
look and said:

"Mr. Tan's mother had a traffic accident and is now in the hospital."

I stood there in shock.

I rushed to the hospital and by the time I found hubby, mother had already passed away.

Hubby did not look at me, his face was expression les s.

I looked at mother's pale white and thin face and I couldn't control the tears in my eyes.

My god, how could this happen?

Throughout the funeral, hubby did not say a single word to me, with only the occasional disgusted stare at me.
 I only managed to find out brief facts about the accident from other people.

That day, after mother left the house, she walked in dazed toward the bus stop, apparently intending to go back to her old house back in the countryside.

As hubby ran after her, she tried to walk faster and as she tried to cross the street, a public bus came and hit her...

I finally understood how much hubby must hate me, if I had not thrown up that morning, if we had not quarreled, if....

In his heart, I am indirectly the killer of his mother.

Hubby moved into mother's room and came home every night with a strong liquor smell on him.

And me, I am buried under the guilt and self-pity and could hardly breathe.

I wanted to explain to him, tell him that we are going to have our baby soon, but each time, I saw the dead look in his eyes, all the words I have at the brink of my mouth just fell back in.

I had rather he hit me real hard or give me a big and thorough scolding though none of these events happening had been my fault at all.

Many days of suffocating silence went by and as the days went by, hubby came home later and later.

The deadlock between us continues, we were living together like strangers who don't know each other.

I am like the dead knot in his heart.

One day, I passed by a western restaurant, looking into the glass window, I saw hubby and a girl sitting facing each other and he very lightly brushed her hair for her, I understood what it meant.

After recovering from that moment of shock, I entered the restaurant, stood in front of my hubby and stared hard at him, not a tear in my eyes.

I have nothing to say to him, and there is no need to say anything.

The girl looked at me, looks at hubby, stands up and wanted to go, hubby stretched out his hand and stopped her.

He stared back at me,challenging me.

I can only hear my slow heart beat, beating, one by one as if at the brink of death.

I eventually backed down, if I had stood that any longer, I will collapse together with the baby inside me.

That night, he did not come home; he had chosen to use that as a way to indicate to me: Following mother's death so did our love for each other.

He did not come home anymore after that.

Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I can tell that the cupboard had been touched - he had returned to take some of his stuff.

I no longer wish to call him; the initial desire to explain everything to him vanished.

I lived alone; I go for my medical checkups alone, my heart breaks again and again every time I see a guy carefully helping his wife through the physical examination.

My office colleagues hinted to me to consider aborting the baby, I told them No, I will not..

I insisted on having to this baby, perhaps it is my way of repaying mother for causing her death.

One day, I came home and I saw hubby sitting in the living room.

The whole house was filled with cigarette smoke.

On the coffee table, there was this piece of paper.

I know what it is all about without even looking at it.

In the two months plus of living alone, I have gradually learned to find peace within myself.

I looked at him, removed my hat and said: "You wait a while, I will sign."

He looked at me, mixed feelings in his eyes, just like mine.

As I hang up my coat, I keep repeating to myself "You cannot cry, you cannot cry...." my eyes hurt terri bly, but I refused to let tears come out from there.
After I hung up my coat, hubby's eyes stared fixed at my bulging tummy. I smiled, walked over to the coffee table and pulled the paper towards me.

Without even looking at what it says, I signed my name on it and pushed the paper to him. "LD, are you pregnant?"

Since mother's accident, this is the first time he spoke to me. I could not control my tears any further and they fell like raindrops.

I said: "Yes, but its ok, you can leave now."

He did not go.

In the dark, we sat, facing each other.

Hubby slowly moved over me, his tears wet the blanket.

In my heart, everything seems so far away, so far that even if I sprint, I could never reach them.

I cannot remember how many times he repeated "sorry" to me.

I had originally thought that I would forgive him, but now I can't.

In the western restaurant, in front of that girl, that cold look in his eyes, I will never forget, ever.

We have drawn such deep scars in each other's heart.

For me, it's unintentional; for him, totally intentional.

I had been waiting for this moment of reconciliation, but I realized now, what had gone past is gone forever and could not repeated.

Other than the thought of the baby inside me that would bring some warmth to my heart, I am totally cold towards him, I no longer eat anything he buys for me, I don't take any presents from him and I stopped talking to him.

From the moment I signed on that piece of paper, marriage and love had vanished from my heart.

Sometimes, hubby will try to come into the bedroom, but when he walks in, I will walk out to the living room.

He had no choice but to sleep in mother's room.

At night, from his room, I can hear light sounds of groaning, I kept quiet.

This used to be his trick; last time, whenever I ignore him, he would fake illness and I will surrender and find out what is wrong with him, he would then grab me and laugh.

He has forgotten that last time I cared for him and am concerned because there was love, but now, what is there between us?

Hubby's groaning came on and off continuing but I continuously ignored him.

Almost everyday, he would buy something for the baby, infant products, children products and books that kids like to read.

Bags and bags of it stacked inside his room till it is full.

I know he is trying to use this to reach out to me, but I am no longer moved by his actions.

He has no choice but to lock himself in his room and I can hear his typing away on his computer keyboard, maybe he is now addicted to web surfing but none of that matters to me anymore.

It was sometime towards the end of Spring in the following year, one late night, I screamed because of a sudden stomach pain, hubby came rushing into the room, its like he did not change and sleep, and had been waiting for this moment.

He carried me and ran down the stairs, stopped a car, holding my hand very tightly and kept wiping the sweat off my brow, throughout the journey to the hospital.

Once we reached the hospital, he carried me and hurried into the delivery suite.

Lying on the back of his skinny but warmth body, a thought crossed my mind:

In my lifetime, who else would love me as much as he did?

He held the delivery suite door opened and watch me go in; his warm eyes caused me to manage a smile at him despite my contraction pain.

Coming out of the delivery room, hubby looked at our son and me, eyes tear with joy and he kept smiling.

I reached out and touched his hand.. Hubby looked at me, smiling and then he slowly collapsed onto the floor.

I cried out for him in pain... He smiled, but without opening that tired eyes of his...

I had thought that I would never shed any tear for him, but the truth is, I have never felt a deeper pain cutting through my body at that moment.
 
Doctor said that by the time hubby discovered he had liver cancer, it was already in terminal stage and it was a miracle that he managed to last this long.

I asked the doctor when he first discovered he had cancer. Doctor said about 5 months ago and consoled me saying:

"Prepare for his funeral."

I disregarded the nurse's objection and rushed home, I went into his room and checked his computer, and a suffocating pain hits me.

Hubby's cancer was discovered 5 months ago, his groaning was real, and

I had thought that... the computer showed over 200 thousand words he wrote for our son:

"Son, just for you, I have persisted, to be able to take a look at you before I fall, is my biggest wish now...

I know that in your life, you will have many happiness and maybe some setbacks, if only I can accompany you throughout that journey, how nice would it be..

But daddy now no longer has that chance.

Daddy has written inside here all the possible difficulties and problems you may encounter during your lifetime, when you meet with these problems, you can refer to daddy's suggestion....

Son, after writing these 200 thousand words, I feel as if I have accompanied you through life journey.

To be honest, daddy is very happy.

Do love your mother, she has suffered, she is the one who loves you most and also the one who loves me most...

" From play school to primary school, to secondary, university, to work and even in dealing with questions of love, everything big and small was written there.

Hubby has also written a letter for me:
"My dear, to marry you is my biggest happiness, forgive me for the pain I have caused you, forgive me for not telling you my illness, because I want to see you be in a joyful mood waiting for the arrival of our baby....

My dear, if you cried, it means that you have forgiven me and I would smile, thank you for loving me...

These presents, I'm afraid I cannot give them to our son personally, could you help me to give some of them to him every year, the dates on what to give when are all written on the packaging... "

Going back to the hospital, hubby is still in coma.

I brought our son over and place him beside him.

I said: "Open your eyes and smile, I want our son to remember being in the warmth of your arms..."

He struggled to open his eyes and managed a weak smile.

Our son still in his arms was happily waving his tiny hands in the air. I press the button on the camera and the sound of the shutter rang through the air as tears slowly rolled down my face.....

A fatal misunderstanding and the person who loves me the most in this world is gone forever...

"Cruel misunderstandings one after another disrupted the blissful footsteps to our family.

Our original intend of having Mother enjoy some quiet and peaceful moments in her remaining years with us went terri bly wrong as destiny's secret is finally revealed at a price, every thing became too late."........

This is a true story.
LEARNING POINT - DO NOT EVER HOLD ON TO OFFENCES!!!
I am totally speech les s, this story brought tears to my eyes as I read through each line eager to know what would happen next. It truly showed the devastating power of grudges and anger!

Simple humility and communication would have resolved most of the problems in that story, as well as patience....

This story has really touched my heart and life as a whole and it has stimulated a paradigm shift.

Though it is very sad, it is also very refreshing to know that from today, I can consciously start to live a life free of grudge.

In life, offenses are inevitable.

But holding a grudge is a choice we consciously make.

***Communication is key.
  
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