Tag: Marriage

I have been writing and deleting this story for 28 days now, Dave. I don’t know how to write it well. I want to celebrate my wife Linda, because these memories I share with her are precious for my life but I don’t know how to whirl my words to capture the moment. The first day I met my wife, it was drizzling on the motorway. She was walking very fast to find a place to hide. She was holding a bag; I stopped on the side to give her a lift.

She was going to Tema. It was one of those days that I felt like helping a stranger. When she sat in my car, I realized she was crying. She looked tired and wanted to take a rest. I wanted to know what was wrong with her, but she didn’t want to talk to me. When we reached the tollbooth, she asked me to buy her water and bread. She ate and drank side by side. She thanked me and answered my question; she was crying because no one would buy what she left the house to go and sell. What was she selling? Her wedding gown. She wanted just GHs 700 for  the dress because she was broke. When we got to Tema, she showed me the dress. What was the original price when she bought it fresh? GHs 3500. She didn’t want to sell it because she believed it held the pinnacles of her beauty; her romance, her story. But she needed money. She had sold almost all her valuables. I gave her GHs 1000 and asked her to keep the dress. We exchanged numbers and became friends. I got to know she was divorced and had a son.

I was not having second thoughts about my friendship with her. She was the one; I wasn’t hyped about her 24/7 but Dave, I wasn’t bored liking her almost every day. My day dreams were about her. How she related to me kept my interest in her. Our communication was on the daily basis and we got to know one another better. She no longer felt like my friend, she was my lover in my mind. She wasn’t manipulative; she doesn’t say disparaging things to me. She celebrates all of my accomplishments. I could not push her boundaries to get what I wanted. I respect my wife so much. Two months after becoming friends, I invited her to stay in my house for the weekend. She hasn’t left eight years later.

Since I met my wife, we’ve made each other better versions of ourselves. When we held hands on our wedding day, I told myself to remember that, Linda is my best friend. I didn’t care how long we had known each other. She is the mother of our children; the woman to care for me till death do us part. The woman I will love till we are old and grey and dead. David, words cannot describe how I felt when her son walked her down the aisle to marry me. Because she told me all about her first marriage, I have made sure in our eight years of marriage, not to clam up about any issue, nor withdraw from one another when we argue. We do not dwell too much on what hurts us between us. We do not hold onto a grudge; we have made sure not to walk on eggshells around one another, nor allow bitterness to build when we have disagreements. There hasn’t been an accumulation of hurts from our indifferences.

I don’t spend too much time on phone or social media. I make time for my wife and children. I don’t lie about my finances. I don’t have affairs; I help with house chores around the house. My children are my priority when I am home. I am keeping my promises to my wife and don’t have any intentions to sabotage my marriage.

My sweet Linda, you have allowed me to be imperfect. You have lived with all of my faults. I thank you for being everything and more than I deserve. My wife wore the same gown she was selling. We are writing our own story.

Image Credit: Yndira Dejesús