My Son

We had known each other from college. I was in my third year. She had just started. It was on her second day of starting that I saw her and fell completely head over heels in love with her.  That was way back. Another lifetime but I am still in love with her. All that time I loved her only and have never desired any other woman. And now here we were. Our wedding day. I stood there the happiest day of my life. My heart swelled with joy when I looked at my brand-new wife. She was the epitome of beauty and had a heart of gold. I would adore and cherish her all my life, she would be my only love.

I don’t remember much about the days soon after our wedding except me being in her arms and being with her. We were very happy. We had started planning our married life long before our wedding. We both desired to have children, at least three maybe four. We therefore started trying soon after our honeymoon. Nothing happened.  For a long time we  kept hoping for the miracle. After some time I became disillusioned and my anticipation and hope turned into sorrow. As years went by my yearning turned into envy. Members of our families that had wed after us had children. I longed for fatherhood with all its joys and so-called frustrations. There would be no sleepless nights nor wet diapers for me. I lamented and spent time away from home where my anguish seemed to reside.

My heart stayed at home with my wife. I wanted to be with her, the joy and love of my life. I wanted us to be together at this difficult time in our life. To be there for each other and try to uplift ourselves. However, I could not bear to look into those beautiful, but sorrow filled eyes. She would always be beautiful to me but at that moment in time she was the anchor to my problems. I laid the blame at her feet and wished I had never met her. Why couldn’t she be like other women and just give me a son? I therefore stayed as far from her as I could. I spent time with other women, found comfort in their  arms even though they were inferior to her in beauty and demeanour. I could never love any of them but then I was not expecting anything from them. Eventually I packed my bags, left my wife without a kiss or goodbye and moved far away from her.

In my hurt and despair, I had lashed out at the only other person I loved, my best friend. We had known each other from childhood. We were like brothers because I was an only child and so was he. He had been orphaned at birth and lived with his grandmother in the same area as I. We had gone to the same schools. Our friendship had started from the first day of kindergarten. We had been inseparable after that. We went to the same college and University and pursued the same degree. We were always together and stood up for each other just as brothers would. At University we had both fallen for the same girl who I had later married.  I had won. Later on, after university he had fallen in love with someone else.  He had been  very unfortunate because barely two years later she died. He had taken this as a ‘Calling’ to go into the Seminary. Even then we had kept in touch. He was almost always at our house for birthdays and other important occasions. We corresponded through letters and phoned each other frequently.  When I left my wife however I closed the door on both of them. I severed my relationship with him too.

It must have been about five months after I left my wife that I bumped into her. She was sitting alone in a restaurant looking very beautiful. I still loved her, and my heart swelled with joy at the site of her. Why had I abandoned her? I remembered that she was still my wife as we had never broached the subject of divorce. I walked up to her. She smiled when she saw me. Welcomed me as if we had parted on good grounds. Conversation flowed and we lost track of time. When it was time to go home it seemed natural that we go together. I told her I wanted to go home with her, to be with her, to sort things out. She agreed, never chastised and never complained. We spend the night together, it was rapture. That night stays in my mind at all times. When I kissed her goodbye in the morning it was as if we both knew we would never see each other again.

I went away with my heart in my hands. Awful as it may sound, I tried hard to forget her, but I failed. I however decided to do something I felt was honourable. I started processing our divorce. I would set her free. Everything was handled amicably by our Lawyers. We never had to meet. I thought that I would be happy after the divorce, but I was not. Instead, I felt guilty and ostracised from even my parents. They did not understand why I had left my wife but then neither did I. My last words to them on the day I had last visited were, that there would be no  discussions about her among us. To me she was dead and buried. After that I drifted away from them. Out of frustration I then had one affair after another. Seeking solace in the arms of women who meant nothing to me. All the while I hoped for a miracle child that never materialised.

I was alone in this world. Never once did I stop thinking about the wife I had loved but abandoned nor for the friendship of the man who was my brother in every respect of the word. As for my parents I did not visit for a very long time because I was ashamed. My communication with them boiled down to a Christmas card send from wherever I was living at that time. I remained without a son despite my longing and numerous attempts. Then reality sank in, and I realised the problem of infertility may have lain with me. I longed for my wife then. If I found her we could adopt as many children as we wanted. i was certain she would forgive me and that we would find happiness together again. I was haunted by immense guilty, and spasms of irrelevance engulfed me like a fire. My unworthiness and misdemeanours weighed heavily on my mind. The finger that I had pointed to her was worth ten directed at me. I needed forgiveness. I needed cleansing and penance, I lamented. I was humbled by this realisation. I changed my name and my ways. Joined the seminary to become a priest. I looked for my ex-wife and my friend so that I would ask for their forgiveness, but they seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

Years later after I had been ordained, I still thought of her, the wife I had divorced. I had since reconciled with my parents although we never discussed my previous life. As for my friend I had lost him too. I had gone back to the Parish where he was stationed . I had been informed that he had left. They were not in a position to give me his forwarding address. I was lonely. I began to have more and more days where the loneliness really got me down. I discussed the matter with my mentor who suggested a change of scenery. I was temporarily relocated to a parish in a different city to assist the resident vicar.  I was going to assist  Father Timothy in a quiet tranquil town by the seaside.  

I had met with Father Timothy on several occasions. He had spoken of the good people of his parish. He himself had been widowed several years back but he felt that the people of the parish were his family. Among them the couple that he held with high esteem. He had told me the story of how the couple had adopted a baby girl after they failed to have children of their own. The wife had a son from a previous marriage. After a year of adopting however they were blessed with twins -a girl and a boy-. They were good people, supported the church and him as if they were his own family. He promised to introduce me to them on my arrival.

It was no wonder then that as soon as I arrived at the little church Father Timothy took me to see his friends. I was pleasantly surprised and overjoyed when the door was opened. The man that had opened the door stood right in front of me. It was my long-lost friend who had been like a brother to me. Next to him was the woman who was always in my dreams the one I had surrendered my heart to but had abandoned and divorced. It was clear they had found each other and that they were happy. The love that shone though their eyes could never be mistaken. Then as if this was not enough, I was dealt another blow. One even sweeter. This was devastating and joyous too. It felt as if I had been hit by a tornado. All the years and tears and yearning to be a father. I looked in disbelief as my son walked towards me.