THE INTRODUCTION:
On June 21,
2000, my husband and I were united in holy matrimony in an elegant but simple ceremony back-dropped by an array of tropical
flowers, palm and coconut trees, and white sandy beach; nestled in the ocean paradise of Couples Resort in Ocho Rios,
Jamaica. Since we both had been married previously, we opted not to deal with the enormous responsibilities of planning a
traditional church wedding and agreed that a combination wedding/honeymoon would be sufficient. The wedding party consisted
of my husband, two witnesses that we met at the resort, the preacher and myself. Everything was perfect me in my satiny off-white
dress trimmed in gold, accessorized with a golden crown and golden slippers (a true princess), and my husband with his white
suit accessorized with white shoes, gold bow tie, and gold cummerbund (a true prince). The staff was awesome; we did
not have to lift a finger! They decorated the gazebo on the beach with a beautiful array of tropical flowers; prepared
my bouquet with beautiful white lilies, and took spectacular photographs.
The
whole affair was videotaped; complimented by a melody of romantic music. The evening was capped off by an elaborate wedding
reception on the beach accompanied by waiters wearing formal tuxedos serving shrimp, prime rib, and an assortment of vegetable,
fruits, and the most delicious desserts ever. We had the time of our lives--until we returned home (yes, the honeymoon
was truly over). What should have been the happiest time of our lives, turned out to be the most devastating!
Now, I know
that every couple has their ups and downs in the first year; it's an adjustment period. As most married couples are
aware, dating is far different from living with each other on a day-to-day basis. In addition to getting to know each
other, we had other issues as well. At the time, I have one adult daughter and two teenage sons from my previous marriage.
After my husband's last marriage, which ended
nine years previous, he vowed bachelorhood. Now, he had two teenage boys to deal with, who were getting into all sort
of mischief. My grown daughter experienced some financial hardships and moved back home. In addition, my husband had
a toddler son who was conceived only a few months prior to our courtship. Ladies, you know what that enlisted-BABY MAMA DRAMA! The
baby's mother stirred up the waters a bit; poking and pulling in sensitive areas that we had not solidified in our marriage. To
top it all off, the big word FINANCES (BILLS! BILLS! BILLS!)! We had grown accustomed to handling our finances separately,
so it was difficult to think jointly. For me, these were things that went along with for better or worse clause in the
wedding vows, but for my husband, it was major DRAMA!
A
year passed and we celebrated our first anniversary. By this time, we had opened our own restaurant, so things were quite
hectic. We decided to celebrate by having a quiet evening at home away from the hustle and bustle of the day. Even
though we still had issues, I believe things were finally moving in the right direction. However, one month later, my
husband told me that he didn't think this relationship was going to work and that he wanted me to move out (I had given
up my house and moved into his townhouse).
Of
course I tried to talk him out of it but he would not listen. He said that we were too different and it would never work. Then,
my stubborn-side kicked in and I refused to leave. Well, this is when all hell broke loose. He told me that he did
not love me and I really should leave. Then, he moved out of the bedroom into the guest bedroom; declared that we were
separated even though we lived under the same roof; refused to eat anything that I cooked; and forbad me to wash his clothes. We
lived as strangers in the same house. I began to question what could have happened this quickly to make our love disintegrate
but found no answers.
In
addition to the mental afflictions, I had a medical condition. My doctor suggested that I have a hysterectomy. It
was scheduled for September. I entertained the possibility that my husband would feel compassion (sorry) for me and hoped
that the marriage would be restored prior to the surgery. However, the relationship continued to deteriorate.
I
believed this situation was a challenge to my Christianity. I had a notion that I had some inside connection with God
that would protect me from such horrible acts (I guess I should have read Job). In the midst of this crisis, I began
questioning God. Why was this happening to me?
