I went to a psychiatrist, and after many attempts to try to see whether a better approach to dealing with my husband had failed, he told me, there was nothing wrong with me, and that we should end our sessions.
One night, I accepted the invitation of my student to celebrate his birthday. He was interested in my sister, and we could go out together. However, it was Martial Law, and we failed to try to return home before the clock struck twelve. So we stayed in the Club, having too much to drink, to while away the time until curfew ended at four o’clock in the morning.
A big Laguna truck sped toward us, and hit us head on. We did not realize that they converted the one-way street into two ways, and our driver, having been inebriated himself, couldn’t move to the other side due to the cement barriers.
It took me a weeks to mend my body. My sister had plastic surgery to take out all the broken bits of glass that flew to her forehead due to the collision. Those weeks allowed me to digest the situation and come to grips with the truth: I had to get away from this marriage, and start my life anew.
In Church, they announced the joys of the Holy Family. I asked God why I couldn’t have the same happiness. After I dried my tears, I planned my escape route to my own happiness.
It took a year before I could really wind up my affairs. I decided I would need to go abroad to escape my past. It was again the Feast of the Holy Family when I had my bags all packed to migrate to Toronto. I chose the Newgrange Condotel to stay before my flight, because it was close to a church, and close to the place where my parents, my grandparents, and my children could stay to say good-bye. I took the two-bedroom suites of the Newgrange Condotel. It was roomy and perfect for family to be around me during this critical period. At Church, I cried again during the homily of the Feast of the Holy Trinity. I was unsure of what awaited me.
Fate was kind to me. I had a good career in Toronto. My Dad brought my girls with him, and he happily worked as my baby-sitter until they were old enough to take care of themselves. In time, I found a good man who was a good father to my girls. I found my happiness. But each Feast of the Holy Family, my heart tinges with an ache as I remember where I left my old life to start a new one.
source: elsietampong.wordpress.com