Love Is Not Always A Choice
Zion: Before I got married to my wife, she was my mother’s favorite hairdresser. My mother lived with me 22 years ago. No hairdresser in our area could fulfill my mum’s enormous hair goals. She expected me to always drive her to the saloon, pay her hairdresser and then later pick her back home. The two times she forced me to walk her into the saloon so she could introduce me to the single women working there, her favorite hairdresser was absent. I met beautiful ladies though, and got to hear interesting stories about their lives and why they would make perfect wives. By the way, my mother’s favorite hairdresser was then married. My mum asked me to drive her to a friend’s house one weekend, and it just happened to be my wife’s home. She had missed two bookings with my mother and she was worried something could be wrong with her. We got to her house and she informed us about her struggle with cancer. She could not adjust to the changes cancer brought to her life because she did not have a strong emotional support. Her husband wasn’t often present at home.
David Bondze-Mbir (DBM): Good evening. How are you doing?
Zion: I am fine, David. How are you?
DBM: I am doing alright, thanks. This is a sad story
Zion: It’s not a sad story.
DBM: It’s not?
Zion: Let me tell you what happened next. My mother started to make regular but short visits to her, and of course, I was the one always driving her to and fro. One thing I found striking about my wife was her ability to still be cheerful and would say funny things to make us laugh, even though she was in great pain. On one of those visits to her house, we were greeted with sad news. Her husband had been involved in a vehicular accident and had lost his life. His pregnant girlfriend survived the accident.
DBM: Pregnant girlfriend?
Zion: Dave, not every marriage is strong enough to survive a cancer diagnosis. My wife was telling us about the additional pressure and the distress her diagnosis had on her marriage with her late husband. It was a difficult challenge for him to navigate. She was telling my mother her inability to engage in sex with her late husband was due to the dryness in her vagina.
DBM: But is intimacy all about intercourse?
Zion: What counts as sex for you?
DBM: Sex to me should be any creative activity that is pleasurable enough to connect me to my partner emotionally.
Zion: Example?
DBM: I know how to give a good massage that can release me off stress.
Zion: Two weeks after her husband’s burial, my mother asked me to drive her to her chemotherapy treatment. We had an hour and half long meeting with her doctor. She had been struggling with the side effects of the medications and the procedure. It was a tough call but I was willing to be there for her.
DBM: Why?
Zion: At first, it was for my mother’s sake but later I became fond of her. I fell in love with her.
DBM: Did she have any children?
Zion: No.
DBM: How long after her husband’s burial before falling in love?
Zion: Exactly three weeks.
DBM: You could fall in love that quickly?
Zion: I didn’t have any desire for her to love me back. Loving her was good enough for me to be there for her. And I was willing to love her even through the cancer.
DBM: When did you know you were in love?
Zion: The day I decided to take six months off work to support her at home. I had no reason to do that but I did it. Loving someone isn’t a choice you make. It’s something you just do because you rejoice in it. It didn’t make sense to my mother. It didn’t have to make sense to anyone.
DBM: Was she also in love with you?
Zion: She didn’t have to, Dave. I was willing to be the only one in that situationship to be having her best interest at heart. What I felt for my wife was willing to endure cancer with her. I was willing to share her pain and grief. I am still persisting against all odds 20 years later.
DBM: That’s how long you’ve been married?
Zion: Yes.
Image Credit: RDNE Stock project
