Bon Voyage
Greetings,
It is March and time to visit father at the wellness clinic. I know I did not tell you anything about that and no, he was not in an accident whatsoever. He did not have a stroke or cancer or heart disease neither did he break his legs nor arms. It’s a wellness clinic at least that is what Luna the clinic supervisor asked us to call it at the time father was brought in. It was tough episode for me and my two brothers, devastating for my younger brother Leo who could not comprehend the idea of father being in such a place like this. It was not a bad place I remember saying to him and Luna confirmed my beliefs. Father was not going to go through series of insanity treatments or whatever they do in those type of clinics these days. No he was going to do things which were chiefly considered to be usual in the outside world, things like farming, sports, book clubs and many others. I was content with this because I could not imagine father going through bouts of pain.
Life years ago was pretty easy for my family. Mother and father had been married 40 years. They hardly quarrelled over anything and if they got to a stalemate, there was always a concession, someone was always ready to sacrifice for the other and this made my home look like a Buddha temple; Peaceful and serene. Both of them made sure it resonated to us the children. We were always told to make every effort to be diplomatic no matter the costs. It was a pretty cool way to live if you ask me. I was never a pugilist or a rabble-rouser in school and if I found myself in the middle of a fight or an argument, I was always quick to withdraw and seek peace of mind either by reading a book or hanging in serene environment alone with my thoughts. I thought my parents were gods on earth and I was hoping nothing was going to tear them apart.
You might ask why I was eager for something like that. Something ridden with probabilities. It could be 0 or 1 and whatever happened, I would have to take it. Well, both of their families had a long history of divorce and years of unsettling but they were the odd ones. Some of my mother’s siblings were either divorced or in partnerships but no marriage. One time my father’s elder brother had come seeking advice on his marriage. His wife who worked at the Finnish embassy was caught on tape performing fellatio on her boss in the inventory room. They would not have been caught he said, if they were no cameras at all but as luck would have it he received a copy of the tape from an anonymous tip. I played with the thought all through the years that it was a bitter person who was literally infatuated with my uncle’s wife and consequently disliked his boss ruining things just because he was the boss. Long story short, both of them were fired. My uncle approached his wife, she felt no remorse to his surprise and even asked for a divorce.
‘He is a better lover than you are. Do send the divorce papers, I have no regrets.’ she said.
My uncle was left in a tight spot. If he left her she was going to take 90 percent of all he had just as the document which was legally binding had said. Of course he did not expect this to happen when he was so love-struck at the beginning of their marriage or the honeymoon they shared together in the French Polynesia. It was a fellatio from her that left him in awe and sold himself to her like all marriages do. Father counselled him to try sorting things out with his wife, find a place in his heart to forgive her. I mean he really had no choice. Forgive or go penniless and uncle was not going to let all his wealth go to his promiscuous wife. He followed father’s advice and before we blinked, we got an invitation to be present at the renewal of their wedding vows. Father saved the day.
You might be marvelled as to why I am telling you all these. I am shocked as you are but it feels good writing it down rather than keeping it all in my chest or telling you face to face as it’s quite awkward for me. Besides, Monica from the production section in my company says I should try this. I am writing to explain why father is at the wellness centre and not at home enjoying his retirement.
Mother’s fourth sister had just returned from South Africa. A real talkative if I am being honest but she could light up any place with her charm and undeniable allure. Orion my elder brother (mother loved stars) even joked once that if he was father’s age, he could have married her as she was indeed sweet and charming, like that woman who The Great Gatsby was in love with. She brought lots of souvenirs and Bon Voyage. It was a really great wine with unimpeachable taste and aura. Father was in love the minute he tasted it and just could not hide his admiration. He literally forgot about the rest of the evening welcome party we organised for my aunt. Who would have fathomed the influence the wine had on father. It was amazing to behold and weird in ways I could not comprehend. Scientists if they were not so busy with other science stuffs would have loved to examine my father themselves.
After the party that evening, my father had his usual relaxation at the terrace with mother. He still kept on talking about the wine. Mother was curious as to why this wine was not the same as the fifty he had previously tasted in his life. Father had no clue but he said “it felt like someone had prepared that wine to lift his spirits from this hell called life”.
Pause for a second. Try to look at that. Do you think that was the turn of the tide? Like that was where mother to some degree realised father was different? Days like this, I am left to believe that indeed it was. The turning point.
Mother got an invitation from South Africa from her fourth sister. She did not want to go as she felt she was not in the mood for wandering besides, my younger brother needed her attention here but father refused. He felt it was time for her to use this opening to explore another continent according to him. He was going to take care of Leo and keep the house in order while she was gone. Mother still not convinced finally gave in and left for South Africa the following week. She had asked father the previous night if he wanted a souvenir. Father said nothing and only requested for you know what. Mother agreed. The trip was going to last for 3 weeks.
A month passed and mother did not return from her trip. Father called countless times to ask why she was not planning on returning. She did not bother to reply only sending her sister multiple times to the phone to talk to him. It felt strange to me and even stranger when father received divorce papers via email from her lawyer. The reason cited irreconcilable differences. Mother was ready to throw it all away including us. Father was shocked as he felt he could not understand why mother wanted to leave. Months of plea from my father, his family and her family ceased when he finally signed the divorce papers.
I was in Norway for a work conference at the time when Father went into a state of depression and tried to kill himself. Twice. The first he tried to drive to the afterlife with methanol he got from his work with a chemical company. His elder brother was quick to discern and stopped him at the last minute. He was kept under watchful eyes before he promised he would not harm himself anymore. The second he had tried to override an elevator drive. It failed when he could not manually do this and his co-workers who were aware of his problems spotted him, dragged him out of the elevator and drove him straight to a hospital. He was discharged however but he just was not the same. He could not speak properly, occasionally peed himself whilst shouting my mother’s name and wine. God! I loathed that wine. I tried finding elucidations but unto no avail, even went as far as searching for the wine around town still no luck. Then my best friend Lara introduced me to a wellness clinic where they helped people heal with no forms of drugs or treatments with references to lunacy, only natural methods. This is his third year there. He is doing well, he has found new hobbies like being in charge of the clinic’s fishery, cabbage farm and the poetry club. Every time I see him, he keeps on mumbling the words
“I wish she never travelled at all.”
I and my brothers despised mother for years. She eventually returned from Cape Town. She had found another lover, a Vietnamese anthropologist who was well to do and highly respected. She did not call or text about her arrival and she never explained why she left father.
While I was randomly searching for event centres for Orion’s art exhibition, I bumped into my aunt, mother’s fourth sister. She had finally returned from SA and settled in the city lecturing criminal psychology at the university. Our pleasantries were somewhat forced as we both knew what was hovering above our heads. We spent the afternoon at a restaurant and took our orders. While waiting, she began to tell me the reason mother left. According to her, her sister had enjoyed her arrival at SA. The wild life resorts, the food and beautiful nights. On the last week of her trip, she decided to get father’s favourite wine. She had found a good wine store with the recommendations of an Ethiopian couple who had been there many times. She paused for a moment as our meals were served. She had ordered an Olivier salad, took a spoonful, placing it gently in between her lips, gently chewing while savouring the taste. She went further to criticising the salad as she looked at me to somewhat support her claim even though I had never tasted the salad. Typical aunt. She ate for a few minutes and then continued her story.
At the wine store, mother was marvelled at the collections of wines dating as far back as the early 1900s. It was there she grasped the knowledge of the unspoken love between men and wine. It was there she went to the store attendant and paid for a good bottle of Bon Voyage for her husband. Something stirred in her. At the store, she finally realised she was not sheltered behind a wall anymore. She hated her husband and his love for this god forsaken wine. She hated how many years she had bargained and conceded just to stroke his ego gently while keeping the peace in their home. It was there she finally came to the consciousness she had wasted forty years of her life with my father.
As actual as this story was, It somewhat felt like a dream to me, something one read off from story books but you never expect it to happen to your family in real time. I could not hate my mother anymore from that minute. Everything died out and it felt like my soul was liberated from years of unswerving hatred.
Yes I knew I was free but I could not tell the story to anyone not even to you my love especially after you told me you wanted to know all about me. I was adamant you did not care about this side of my life but you kept pressing and pressing until you got fed up and left for your business trip to Helsinki. That was a month ago. I guess I decided it was time for you to know what I was hiding and how hard it was for me to tell you this, this stain that has refused to dissolve from the fabrics of my life.
Nevertheless, do come home sometime. It would be lovely to see you again.
Your love,
Philippa
