The Untamed Anger

Until Death do us Part

The pain was still there. Thank you, Leann, for her concern and fuss over the swollen part of my head. Although pressed with ice, the soft huge spot on the right side of my head was still there to remind me of what had happened. I was very sure the spot was hit twice with his ringed fist. There was no deny on that fact.

Putting aside the feeling of pain and lost as I was gripping on the reality, I still held the responsibility of carrying out my duty as Mother's daughter. Mother had her own way of getting others do as she said. Some months before, it was Uncle Wayne, running to attend the wake of Sean's GrandMa, as Mother informed him authoritatively. Now, it was my turn. Surprisingly, we didn't need to wait for the instruction to come. The moment Mother rang, we knew that she would make us go to where she couldn't be, on her behalf. That's how different my family was as compared to Sean's. We were somewhat obedient and less arguing against the elders.

Visiting Uncle Wayne was like being in a puzzle. It was a puzzle to get to the hospital and his VIP ward. It was a puzzle to set my own emotion before facing him. It was a puzzle to think of a topic to converse with him and how to respond to his. The whole time, I was holding my tears. It was more tempting to my tears to show themselves when we had a heart-to-heart talk about our family, as I was trying hard to hide the recent incident I just had an hour before.

It took me some strength to actually face the man who once stabbed me in the heart when he gave up helping me at the time I direly needed help 19 years ago. We hardly sat down just the two of us and had deep conversation. Almost never. Yet, seeing his current state forced me to hold in all anger and frustration in the corner of my heart, and looked at him as my uncle. We never talked about the past incident before this, and I guess that bogged him down every time we met. Today, he managed to pull his strength to bring up the topic lightly but meaningfully.

I could sense that he was trying to say sorry, but in a way it was not an apology. "Like your case, it was not a big deal. There's a simple solution to it, but our family always made a huge fuss over it and made it so complicated. Now, look at you. You're far more better than any of your cousins. Things turned out well, you just had to go through it, experience it," said Uncle Wayne, in between his heavy sighs.  He had some difficulty breathing, as his heart was jeopardizing his effort to pour out everything bottled in for so long.

I didn't blame him. I knew he was doing the best he could. I knew I was not meant for him to safe. At least now we had our closure on the case. Nevertheless, every attempt he made in talking and pouring all from his heart, it brought tears to my eyes. As how I felt when I met Mother last few weeks, I felt as if this was going to be the last conversation I would have with Uncle Wayne. I hoped I was wrong.

Understanding his condition and with the knowledge that he would be transferred to the heart institute anytime soon, I left the hospital again with a blank mind. I could hardly find my way out of the place. It was also quite a challenge to get to the highway back to my home in the big city. All I had in my mind was to get away from the state, as far and as quickly as I could. Fear somehow peeked into my heart that I didn't think of getting my head treated at the hospital where Uncle Wayne was warded. All I wanted to do was stay away as far as I could, away from Sean.

The heavy rain was not helping neither. After five hours of long drive in heavy traffic, I reached my residential area. It was dark, but not yet midnight. The family clinic was still opened, and I tried my luck. The young doctor in charge of the evening shift greeted me nicely, and I said that I was hit by my husband on my head. Tears started to break again when I said it, but I managed to pull them in momentarily. The doctor advised that I had to go to the government hospital, and he insisted that he couldn't do anything. After persuading that I only needed something as a backup and promising that I wouldn't adhere to the rules, he gave some pain killers and two days of medical leave. I thought one day was sufficient, but the doctor insisted that I needed to think of emotional recuperation as well, hence the extra day.