Today’s show, Lisa Skinner discusses Japanese Internment Camps, how the Japanese were rounded up and lost their businesses, and houses, and how Franklin D. Roosevelt was very concerned about public opinion! Lillian Cauldwell discussed how the Americans were no better than the Germans when it came to placing people in internment camps! How the USA does discriminate against immigrants and we…
[They do a gose, that's a salted beer, which is pretty fun. Physical and mental suffering; it is a period of expiation in their experimentation in the burgers that they make.]
Hanamiya and his wife go through with having this unplanned baby. As the days close in on her due date, Hanamiya starts to have fear and paranoia that he will end up just like his father. He fails to see the sickening conditions of his wife, and she ends up having a stillbirth. How would this affect the both of them and their relationship? Angst and fluff!
Word count: 4,871↳Requested by: Stephanie
[A/N: Please note my tags before reading this story as it contains triggering content.]
It’sSpring when you get the news. You’re not expecting it and you knowthat Hanamiya won’t be either and the insight behind that factterrifies you. It spins anxiety in the low of your belly, thetelltale notion like many spiders crawling across your skin, trailinggossamer webs in their wake. It makes you shiver and the disquiet inyour stomach rises to bile in the back of your throat. You exhaleslowly and swallow the bitterness back down, forcing strength intothe bones of your apprehension. When you drive your stillness intomotion and push yourself into standing, the fear that eclipses yourability to see reason turns to ice in your veins. But when lightcatches on your wedding ring you realize that this is something youhave to do. Running has never gotten you anywhere and Hanamiya hasspent the past two years teaching you how to have a voice. So youreiterate his teachings and exit the bathroom with the necessaryconfidence to deliver a message to him despite the skepticism you’veheard in every conversation you’ve shared about whether he wantschildren or if he’d rather spend the rest of your lives togetheralone. However, even with your determination and the sound ofHanamiya’s voice playing in the back of your mind, the distancebetween the bathroom and the living room still seems like the longestyou’ve ever traveled.
Hanamiyais sitting on the couch, his feet resting on a glass coffee table anda crossword puzzle in his hand. His brows are furrowed and his lip iscurled in disgust, he scoffs and sneers at the wrinkled paper beforetossing it aside. “Fucking people can’t even make decent puzzlesthese days. Who even says oleo anymore?”
Youknow what you want to say, you know the words but you can’t reallyspeak them. You laugh uncomfortably and run a hand through your hairwhen you turn to face the direction of the sunlight filtering throughthe window.
“What’sup with you?” Hanamiya asks, sliding his feet off the table andplanting them firmly on the floor. You don’t have to look at him toknow that there’s concern wrinkling his forehead or a frown settlinginto the dig of his mouth. You swallow thickly and catch movement outof the corner of your eye. Hanamiya is leaning forward, pressing hiselbows to his knees and folding his hands together. He’s bracinghimself for whatever it is you need to tell him and you suddenlycan’t handle the weight of your confession any longer. So you bowyour head and blurt “I’m pregnant” before fleeing from theroom.
It’snot exactly how you planned to tell him but you’re relieved enoughjust to have the news out on the table. At least for now.
Summeris two weeks away and Hanamiya hasn’t stopped complaining about theheat for nearly an hour by the time you’ve settled beneath anumbrella at a picnic bench near your favorite ice cream parlor. Hedrags a hand through his hair and narrows his eyes in irritation ashe sweeps his tongue over three scoops of his chocolate dessert.
“Youcould be twelve weeks pregnant. I’m hot and I have a terribleheadache. I’ve started waking up with drool on my pillow. I’mconstipated and bloated and I’ve already farted four times duringthis conversation. I think between the two of us, you’re doing justfine.”
“Really,four times?” Hanamiya asks, arching an eyebrow as he tries todisguise the laughter tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“It’snot funny, Makoto. It’s embarrassing.” You take a bite out of thesundae in front of you and sigh. “It’s more like a slow fart streamthat’s been coming out of me since this morning,” you tell him,frowning.
“That’spretty…terrible,” he says, nodding slowly. He stares at you for along moment, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to paint sympathy onhis features but his face crumbles to expose the underlying amusementbeneath.
“Ihate you,” you say, the bottom line of your mouth settling into apout. “You are so far from compassionate it’s almost sad.”
“Atleast I never hid the fact,” Hanamiya supplies, smiling. “Look,I’m sure it’s awful but think of the outcome. We’re actually going tohave a baby together.”
Youlift your head and meet his eyes, catching something like excitementin the dark waters of his gaze. “You’re actually looking forward tothis, aren’t you?” You smile softly as you absentmindedly stir yourmelting dessert.
“Idon’t know,” Hanamiya shrugs. “I mean, I think it could be coolto have a son. I’ll teach him everything I know. He’ll be an evenbigger pain in the ass than I was.” Hanamiya smiles and the curveof it plays at charming but you’re not amused.
“Thatis not happening. I know what your mother had to go through to raiseyou and I am not interested in raising a sociopath.” You pause fora moment, realization creeping into your thoughts. “What if thebaby is a girl?”
“Huh?”Hanamiya shakes a black spill of hair out of his eyes, still longeven now. You get distracted for a moment, staring at the way itfalls over his cheekbones and the pale angle of his jawline, thecontrast almost striking. “What do you mean?” he asks, an attemptto draw your focus back to the present moment.
“Yousaid son, before. What if it’s not a boy? Will you be disappointed?”There’s a tremor of fear in your voice and sick in your stomach. Youtake a deep breath to calm the sudden undercurrent of emotionstwisting in your gut and exhale slowly.
“Ididn’t realize I had,” Hanamiya says, considering. “Maybe it’sjust my intuition speaking. Call it a hunch.” He shrugs hisshoulders and smears moisture over the deep cracks in his lips. “Itif is a girl though, you better believe that I’ll be teaching hereverything that I know. I won’t have people mistaking her forweakness.”
“Andif she’s just sensitive?” you ask, smiling around a cherry beforeyou pluck it from its stem. “Don’t mistake having emotion forweakness.”
“Yeah,yeah. You’ve told me that a thousand times,” Hanamiya says, wavinga hand to dispel your words. “She can be sensitive, but thatdoesn’t mean that she can’t be strong.” Hanamiya turns hisattention toward the sun, not bothering to shield his eyes when theresplendent rays turn his stormy irises light. “I still think it’sgoing to be a boy.”
“Istill think you want it to be,” you tease, smiling. “It’s okay.Girls come with an entirely separate set of problems. So many mixedemotions and times of low self-esteem, crushes and periods and girlfights, not to mention the inherent need to hate their mothers.”
“Okay,that’s enough for me.” Hanamiya takes a large bite of his ice creamcone and chews while shaking his head. He swallows and licks thechocolate off his fingers before continuing. “Do you remember whenI first noticed that you liked me? We were sitting in that restaurantjust a few miles out of town. We were waiting for the check and Icould tell that something had changed by how you looked at me then. Ididn’t realize it at the time but I was already in love with you. Istill don’t know exactly how it happened.” He laughs and cards ahand through his gloss-black strands. “I remember playing you rightout of your dress earlier that day. We fucked for hours with nostrings attached. I wanted to confess my feelings to you that nightbut I told you that I liked you best dressed all in black instead. Istill don’t know why I did that…”
“Howcould I forget? But why are you telling me this?” you ask,curiosity underscoring the question.
“Idon’t know,” Hanamiya replies, and you can tell that his answer isgenuine. “I guess…fuck, I’m reminiscing,” he says, huffing abreath of laughter. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I knewthis marriage bullshit would catch up to me sooner or later.”
“Doyou regret marrying me?” you ask, spilling the question intoresonance before you can call it back.
Hanamiyaleans forward and snatches your wrists in his hands; he tugs youforward, more mindful than customary and squeezes in a gesture ofreassurance. “I would never have asked you to marry me if I wasn’tone-hundred percent sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life withyou. Believe me, I never thought I’d be the type to get married. Iguess I have my mother to thank for that.” He exhales a breath thatsounds like laughter and lowers his eyes to the many initials carvedinto the timeworn surface of the picnic table. “I sometimes wonderwho I would have become if I hadn’t had her around to nag me all thetime.”
“Aninsufferable prick? A bigger asshole than you already are? A serialkiller?” you needle, laughing when Hanamiya looks at you with allthe emotion of a stone. “What? I’m just making a casualobservation…as an outsider.”
“You’renot an outsider, you’re my wife,” Hanamiya chides. Then: “You’reprobably right though. Without my mother’s discretion, I might befollowing in my father’s footsteps.” He looks angry then but thesharp-edged expression melts into something like affection when helooks at you directly. “Don’t tell her that, though. She doesn’tneed you stroking her ego, it’s big enough already.”
“I’mguessing that runs in the family.” You stroke your fingers over thetops of his hands and smile softly, thinking about the pages of yourhistory and the tiny being growing inside of you.
“Yeah,and you love my ego,” Hanamiya rasps, his lips curving into hissignature smirk. “If you want, I can take you home and we canchristen the couch. I don’t think we’ve fucked on it yet.”
“You’reso sweet,” you remark, patting his hands in a sarcastic gesture. “Iwould love to but I have a headache, I’m nauseous, I have gas, and ifI don’t pee within the next two minutes I’m going to leave a puddleright here on the ground. If we’re going home, I’m going straight tothe bedroom to take a nap.”
“Iknew it,” Hanamiya says, letting go of your hands to push himselfup and away from the picnic table. “This is what I get for tyingthe knot.”
“Yes,it is,” you lilt, accepting Hanamiya’s arm when he offers it to youfor support. “And you knew that when you married me.” You pullyourself up and exhale a long sigh. “You really take things forgranted when you’re not pregnant. Life seemed so much easier backthen.”
“You’renot even to the best part yet,” Hanamiya tells you, the suncatching on the whites of his teeth when he smiles. “Just waituntil you can’t see down to your feet and getting out of bed is morework than it is habit.”
“IfI could make you carry this baby, I would.” You wrap your armaround his own and lean against his shoulder, the desire to be closeto him greater than actual necessity. “Now take me home, Mr.Hanamiya. I’m exhausted.”
“Mr.Hanamiya? What do I look like to you? I’m not even in my forties yet.Save the Esquire for the bedroom or keep it to yourself, Mrs.Hanamiya.” He tugs you close and kisses the warmth of yourscalp before proceeding. “How about a blowjob?” he asks when youreach the pavement stretching out toward the direction of your home.
“Nota chance in hell,” is your answer, playful but firm in itsinterpretation.
“I’mreally starting to rethink this whole being a parent thing,”Hanamiya mutters, dejected.
Autumnrolls in with light, crisp winds and dismal skies. It’s befitting tohow you’re feeling considering the way your health seems to havetaken a turn. Your back aches, your breasts are sore, you’re short ofbreath, and if you thought you had to make frequent stops at thebathroom before, you’re running a longstanding marathon now.
You’restaring at your reflection when you hear the front door open andclose. You listen for a brief moment, then hear the familiar patternof Hanamiya’s keys hitting the sideboard near the welcome mat and thedull thud of his shoes coming off and bumping against the wall. Youblink and bring your vision back into focus. You gently press yourfingers against your cheeks, now swollen and flushed. Your headacheshave become more severe and you’re drinking insurmountable cups oftea a day to keep your nausea at bay, which does little in the way ofminimizing your trips to the toilet.
“I’mhome,” Hanamiya calls. His voice is low and void of emotion and youcan’t help but fear the direction your relationship is headed.Hanamiya is gone more often than he’s home and he hasn’t visited thebaby’s room since he helped you decorate it. He’s distant andunusually quiet, and it’s obvious that there’s frost in theatmosphere when you waddle out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.
“Wherewere you?” you ask, wrapping your arms around Hanamiya’s waist. Youmove forward to rest your chin against his shoulder but he pushes youaway and walks to the other side of the kitchen.
“Out,”is all he says, cold and detached.
“That’sit? Just…out?” You lean against the row of counters at your backand wince as a cramp passes through your abdomen. “What’s going onwith you?”
“Fuck,____! I didn’t realize that you needed a detailed description of whatI do each day. Just back off, okay?” He reaches for an empty mugnestled against the sink but when his fingers close around its handlehe throws it across the room. It shatters against the wall and smallfragments of glass litter the floor like jagged pieces of a puzzle.
Youjolt but the shiver of fear that passes down your spine feels moreconvulsive than reactionary. Your vision blurs and you grow dizzy butit quickly passes, however, you’re still left with a fine sheen ofsweat on your skin and a hammering in your heart. “Why are you soangry? I haven’t done anything wrong, Makoto. I don’t deserve this.”
Hanamiyais quiet for so long that you think he’s resorted to ignoring yourpresence entirely. You sigh and turn to leave the room and that’swhen you hear him mutter something that makes your breath stick inyour throat.
“Ican’t do this. I can’t have this baby with you.” He clutches theedge of the counter and rocks forward, his head bowed over the sink.
“It’sa little late for that, don’t you think?” you ask, incredulous andhurt. The sharp of his words slice through your veins and lancethrough your heart. You feel tears collect along the lines of yourlashes, their weight too much to bear when you attempt to blink themaway.
“I’mgonna fuck this up,” Hanamiya says. His voice appears to be smallerthan you’ve ever heard him sound and it’s honestly more frighteningthan the out-pour of rage he expressed only moments ago. “I’m notcut out to be a dad.” He shoves hard at the counter and turnsaround to face you, his eyes glistening brightly. “Look at me. Ican’t raise a child.” His words splinter and his voice cracks andyou’re closing the distance between you before you can formulate areply because you know that he needs you now more than ever.
“Noone expects you to be perfect. This is my first child too. We’re notgoing to get it right every time and it’s going to take practice.”You lift your arms and cup his face between your hands. “We’regoing to get through this, baby. Together.”
“I’mso fucking scared,” Hanamiya admits, choking on the emotion cloyingagainst the dark of his throat. “I don’t want to be like myfather.”
“Thenyou won’t be.” You smooth the pads of your fingers over thecontours of his cheeks and smile softly. “You’re not perfect, no,but none of us are. You’re going to be a wonderful father. You’regoing to spoil this baby rotten. I know you. You’re going to make melook like the bad guy,” you tell him, the breath in your lungsturning over to quiet laughter.
“Andwhat if I’m not? What if I fuck up so badly that the damage I causeis irreversible?” Hanamiya curls his fingers around your wrists andpresses his forehead against your own.
“You’regoing to be just fine,” you reiterate, assurance heavy on yourtongue.
Hanamiyadraws back away from you, his forehead wrinkled and his eyesexpressing concern. “You’re burning up.” He presses the back ofhis hand to your cheek and frowns. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’vebeen feeling under the weather a bit lately but it’s nothing. Justnormal pregnancy stuff, you know, the headaches and nausea anddizziness. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. The doctor said thateverything was normal during my last exam.”
Hanamiyanods once but there’s still apprehension in his expression and youcan feel the tension in his shoulders when you wrap your arms aroundhis neck to hold him close to you. “We’re going to get throughthis,” you tell him, but it sounds like you’re trying to convinceyourself more than offer up encouragement. You just don’t know why.
Winteris cold and unforgiving and each time the night lifts, you’redrenched in sweat and covered in tears from the ruinous hoursprevious. The sun doesn’t seem to shine as bright as it once did andthe barren trees look cruel and forsaken. The skies look vacant andfrore and the snow looks like hills of ash even in its purest state.
Youclose your eyes and fall back against your pillows, tears leakingpast your temples to spill into the tangled mess of your hair. You’repast the point of exhaustion and every breath you take makes youwonder if this is all worth it while asking whoever will listen howthis is fair. It doesn’t take you long to fall into the arms ofslumber, but your sleep is a restless one and the sheets twist aroundyour body like the invisible hands that threaten to drag you downinto a void so dark you won’t ever see light again.
Youtoss and turn, the dreams you once had turning over to nightmares asa memory eclipses your mind’s eye.
“No,”Hanamiya says, shaking his head and raking a hand through his hairroughly. “No, no, this isn’t right. This isn’t right, youbastards!” He lunges forward and grabs the folded collar of thedoctor’s jacket, pulling him off balance and almost flush against hisown body. “You motherfucker! That…that was my son! My son is deadbecause of you! I’ll never forgive you for this. I’ll find out yourname and where you live and I’ll make sure you end up six feet in theground. If my son doesn’t get to live then neither do you!”Hanamiya falls to his knees and punches the floor until his knucklesare stained and bleeding red. “This isn’t how it was supposed tobe.”
*
“Thecondition you suffered from is called preeclampsia, it affects theblood flow to the placenta. I’m so sorry, to both of you. Yourbaby…there’s no heartbeat. He’s…gone.”
*
“OurFather in heaven, we thank you that, through Jesus Christ, you havegiven us the gift of eternal life. Keep us firm in the faith, thatnothing can separate us from your love. When we lose someone who isdear to us, help us to receive your comfort and to share it with oneanother. We thank you for what you have given us through this child.We now entrust ourselves to you, just as we are, with our sense ofloss and of guilt, When the time has come, let us depart in peace,and see you face to face, for you are the God of our salvation.”
*
“Thereis no God,” Hanamiya says, running his fingers down the face of amarble headstone. “Not for us, but maybe there is for you.” Heabandons his crouch in favor of kneeling against the fresh soil. “Ihope you’re at peace. You deserve so much better than what you got.”He lifts a bandaged hand to his lips and kisses his fingers beforepressing them to the grave. “I…love you, son.”
*
“Thisis my fault. This is all my fault,” Hanamiya rasps, his words shakywith strain and his breathing labored. “It’s my fault for all theterrible things that I’ve done. This is karma. This is what my mothertried to tell me. Fuck! I didn’t mean to do this. I would neverhave…not my son…not you.”
Hanamiyagently shakes your shoulder and you sit bolt upright, crashingagainst his arms as he tugs you close to his chest. “It’s okay,”he soothes, stroking your hair as he rocks you slowly in a habit thatshould have never been born.
“I’vetried so hard to tell myself that he’s gone but I can’t. I can’tbring myself to accept it, Makoto. I just can’t,” you confess, yourwords breaking into violent sobs that rack your body. You bury yourface in Hanamiya’s shoulder and tighten your hands into fists as thepain that’s taken over your soul bleeds into his.
Hanamiyaholds you tight in his arms and hides the pain that he’s gained withhis wisdom. You know that the truth is killing him just as much as itis you but it’s as though he left his emotions back at the hospitalin order to stay strong for you. It feels selfish and you know thathe needs to express his own pain but you need him now like you needoxygen. For thirty-four weeks you carried a baby, a tiny soul youthought was healthy, in the end, a boy who would turn to a memory—amere vision you hold in your heart and mind when you should beholding him in your arms. It tastes like rot and feels like dying andyou don’t know how much longer you can survive with the weight of somuch suffering in your heart.
“Youdon’t have to accept it,” Hanamiya tells you, his voice raw fromlack of use. He clears his throat and braces a hand at the back ofyour neck. “____, listen to me. There’s nothing we can do to bringhim back but we have to keep moving forward. It’s unfair and I don’thave a reason to offer you that can possibly justify what happenedbut we can’t keep waiting for something we won’t find. You know that.We’re fighting a losing battle.” Hanamiya lifts your chin andpresses your foreheads together. “I will keep fighting if that’swhat you need me to do but we can’t keep living like this.” You cansmell coffee on his breath and hear a spate of emotion in his voice,and for a reason you can’t quite explain, it provides you with asemblance of calm.
“Doyou really think that we can move past this?” you ask, your wordsthick and trembling. Your knuckles are turning pale againstHanamiya’s shoulders but you can’t calm the shake that controls yourhands when you’re not holding onto something. And right now, Hanamiyafeels like your only anchor, a mainstay that tethers you to your onlychance at healing.
“Wecan’t go back, the only direction we can move in is forward. It’s notgoing to be easy and I can’t promise that I’ll always keep mycomposure but I refuse to lose you too. I won’t make it if I lose youon top of everything that we… I need something to believe in, ____.I’m in this with you, right down to the bitter end. I’m here.” Hegrips your shoulders and kisses the damp from your cheeks. “I’m notgoing anywhere so stay with me, okay? I need you to trust me.”
“Itrust you,” you whisper. The strain in your fingers lessens andyour hands take to the shape of Hanamiya’s shoulders without thetension of hysteria. You lean forward and let Hanamiya take you inhis arms, his palms pressing flat against your spine as he cradlesyou close to the thrum of his heart.
Youdon’t recall falling asleep and you’re unaware of when Hanamiya laidyou supine on the bed, but when you open your eyes you’re curled inagainst his prostrate frame. He’s snoring softly, his mouth slack,and his fingers are catching in the soft weave of your shirt. Theroom is dark save for the soft glow of Christmas lights on yourwindows from the house across the street. You exhale a breath thatseems to lift some of the weight bearing down on your chest whilestaring down at your husband. He looks worn-out, like he’s beenweathering all of the storm on his own and you realize in thatmoment, it’s been his love getting you through dark nights. He’s beentrying to shoulder the weight of your onus along with the crushingforce of his own grief, and for some reason, even considering theclout of your misfortune, you fall in love with him all over again.
You’rein the kitchen making coffee when he enters the room, his hairknotted and the longest it’s ever been. His eyes look dim and thecircles around them are deep-set and stark in contrast to his sallowpallor. “It’s snowing,” he says, looking out the window. “Idon’t think I’ve ever seen this much snow in this region.”
Youcross the distance between you and hand him a steaming mug of bittercoffee. “At least we’ll have a white Christmas,” you say, yourvoice quiet and still unlike your own.
“Maybe,”Hanamiya says, settling his weight in against the back of the couchwhen he sits down on his favorite cushion. “Are we celebrating thisyear? I don’t know that I’m really in the mood for gifts.”
“Idon’t need anything,” you tell him, joining him on the couch. “I’vegot all I need right here.” You press yourself against the heatradiating from Hanamiya’s body and sip your coffee in silence.
Youstay like that for a long time, the soft whisper of your breathingthe only sound against the backdrop of the room until Hanamiya stirsand turns his attention toward the front door. “Do you hear that?”
Youforce your focus to attention and listen carefully, then: “Issomeone singing?”
“We’venever had carolers around here,” Hanamiya states. He sets his mugdown on the coffee table and leans back against the cushions. “Iguess there’s a first time for everything. If only we could go backin time.”
Youset your mug down next to his, its monogrammed porcelain a match forHanamiya’s. “No. There’s no going back.” You curl up on the couchand rest your head in his lap. “You’re right. We can’t keep runningfrom this. I would have given up everything for just another chancebut…we can’t.” Hanamiya sweeps the hair gathered at the curveyour neck over your shoulder and you reach for his hand, holding ittight in your grip when his fingers close around your own. “We havethe rest of our lives together. There’s plenty of time for…” youlet the words forming at the back of your mind trail off into silencebecause you’re not quite prepared to speak them.
“Iknow,” Hanamiya says, lacing your fingers together. “I know.”
Youclose your eyes and listen to the dulcet sounds of the carolersoutside your front door. Hanamiya exhales a shuddering breath and youwonder if he’s crying but you don’t ask because he needs thissilence. And for the first time in what feels like months, the darkbehind your eyes doesn’t feel like drowning and the heat in yourveins doesn’t feel like blood loss.
TheChristmas lights illuminating the night shine over your faces, overthe wounds and the scars and the pain.They almost feel indicative of something, like a harbinger of sorts,and for a moment you can pretend at normalcy because things don’tfeel so bad. But you can’t because they’re not, and you aren’t.
To become attached to the dream that a point will come in your life where everything will henceforth be pleasant, good, and agreeable is a trap that sets us up for even greater mental suffering. The ups and downs of life are simply unavoidable. It is our reaction to the down moments that makes them worse, reacting with tension only fills us up with more tension.
Question asked : My date of birth is xxx . I am currently going through a lot of mental sufferings. What are some suggestions?
My View : Mental suffering is caused when one do not believe in the reality ( that is happening in life ).
The moment one accepts the reality the suffering is GONE.
Now one becomes a fighter, ready to search for the solution.
If there is no solution then become a silent observer like a spectator watching a football match. The game is in the hands of the players and YOU are just an observer given your time to observe.
I will give a live example of my own.
I was cheated and a fraud pulled out money from my account thru me ( I was being fooled, its my foolishness ). I was very honest and told that person that she do not need consultation but still she requested me and . . . . long story, cutting short. I was so much dejected that I could not take it that I was cheated.
It is because I was very very honest with the lady and she cheated me thru her boy friend assuming to be in army.
I was in deep pain and frustration as I could not believe that I could be cheated being honest, and for 2 days I was very upset and totally defocused.
Suddenly I shifted my focused and realized that my pain was the cause of my own disbelieving of the reality. I very soon realized it and then I went for solution.
I went to bank and lodged a complaint. Waited for many days as an OBSERVER and at the end nothing happened and I lost the amount permanently.
Now I there was no way that I could get back that money, so I started working more harder to it EARN BACK. In the process I worked so hard that I earned 4 times of the lost money and let myself forget about the lost one.
One more example
My father had a heart attack and was admitted in hospital. Cutting short the story. The doctors said that they can not do anything as he was aged and his body will not respond and as per medical practice one can not operate on such patient. The doctor told me 15 days time for my father.
My eyes were full of tears and I was crying like a child. In between my cry I realized that how much and till when I will cry as I have my responsibility to carry on with the situation.
I stopped crying and became an OBSERVER waiting to see my father passing away. Its so pathetic, I can’t explain nor express.
Now I got my eyes wet while writing this article. I am also human like you . . . so I understand you.
I did not cry at all for 16 day and on the 17th day he left this world and I got burst out crying. But still I could not cry much as I had responsibilities to do all the ritual works and other arrangements for funeral. I WENT FOR SOLUTION
There are many things in life which do not have instant solution thru astrology. I understand that our brain becomes blank and we are left out with nothing but for some quick miracles, and if it can be thru astrology.
