Friend A is a happily married Filipina to her American husband. She is a professional teacher previously married to her Filipino husband who she divorced after six children when she discovered his relationship with another woman in another country while working overseas. So it looks like he’s banging his way when he comes home and when he is not home. Worst, all those time he was working overseas, his remittance goes to his parents instead of sending it to his wife to feed their children. The children have to beg money from their grandparents in case of emergency and when my friends’ salary couldn’t cope with the familys’ expenses. When she came to America via her husbands’ petition she took her three younger children, now with their own job and family, while her third daughter went to London to work as a nurse is now also married and has a job. Where is the father? He is now old, almost retiring, living with another woman back home in the Philippines, still penniless and struggling. However, having a family member earning in dollars is a big deal, because a few thousand dollars goes a long way, for investment in properties and land that in turn could be used as more source of income. It appears now that the father is trying to lure his children to give him a few thousand dollars to purchase more properties presumably in his childrens’ name. Which my friend doesn’t believe so. He wants to steal some rewards of a good fortune his children are reaping, no thanks to him. What does my friend do? She keeps on reminding her children how they were neglected at a time he was most needed, how they have to beg for what was due them and how they were turned away most of the time. My friend thinks her children has a soft spot for their father and might succumb to his sweet words.
Friend B is a widow working as a sales representative in one of big wholesale club chain. Six years ago together with her husband they came to America and after two years he died from heart disease. Married for 44 years, she claimed they never spent even a minute away from each other. She joins him with his hobbies like watching horseracing and jai-alai game, his favorite diversion. His sudden death made her so depressed that she couldn’t stand to be alone. She discovers herself crying for no reason at all, while walking in the streets on the way to work. Tears comes streaming down her eyes without her knowing it. Her depression makes her tell her story to anyone and everyone, her seatmate in the bus or train, in the grocery while conducting her business, people listens to her and buy her trade. However she left her job due to a medical condition and found another job her boss from the previous job is calling her, saying he misses her sales. She didn’t realize that her depression was a technique that brought in more sales. And she still talks of her husband, the same tale again. How she loved her husband and thinks that no one could replace him in her heart.
Friend C is a nurse that I met, her husbands’ death anniversary is in February. She is a widow and depressed. Married for 36 years to her doctor husband who was sick with lupus. A non threatening disease that could be easily cured by todays’ modern medicine. One day she took her husband to the hospital because he wasn’t feeling well. On the third she was in a funeral for her husbands’ death. It was a like dream she wished to wake up. The days following, concentrating on her job as a nurse in a hospital was getting impossible. And so with her daily routine like eating and sleeping were getting complicated. Coming home to the house she shares with her husband was not easy because she sees him everywhere. She gets hurt when people come comforting her with words such as “he’s in God hands”, or “everything has a reason”, words that felt more like a dagger in her heart. She wish nobody would say anything, the more people talk, the more it hurst her, there is not enough words that may comfort her. At work she was given a year of vacation to recover. She didn’t. The company decided to retire her. She went travelling around the world visit as many places as she could. In Africa she was crying in the midst of safari, her tears comes down while she was in Mediteranean cruising the island, or in Europe or Latin America she stops and stares at nothing. She didn’t even know where she was going, she just comes home, when its time, then leave again for another trip. Ten years ago and until today she still talks of her husband.
All these women haunted by their past and their pain. I hope I painted a picture that gives justice for the suffering that my friends are going through.
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/critical-eye/”>Critical Eye</a>