Carry Me in Your Arms…
When I arrived home that night, my wife, Ameera, was serving dinner. I took her hand and said, "I have something to tell you." She sat down and ate quietly. I noticed the hurt in her eyes as she sensed something was not right.
Suddenly, the words caught in my throat. But I had to tell her what was on my mind. "I want a divorce," I stated calmly. Ameera didn't seem annoyed by my words; instead, she asked me softly, "Ismail, why?" I avoided her question, which made her angry. She shouted, "You are not a man!"
That night, we didn't speak to each other. Ameera wept. I knew she wanted to understand what had gone wrong with our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; I had lost my heart to my lovely secretary Mary Anne. I no longer loved Ameera; I only felt pity for her.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement stating that she could keep our house and the car. She glanced at it and then tore it to pieces. The woman who had spent twenty years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources, and energy, but I couldn't take back what I had said, for I loved Mary Anne dearly.
Finally, Ameena cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected. To me, her crying felt like a release. The idea of divorce, which had obsessed me for several weeks, now seemed firmer and clearer.
The next day, I came home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't eat supper but went straight to bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted after an eventful day with Mary Anne. When I woke up, she was still at the table writing. I didn't care, so I turned over and went back to sleep.
In the morning, she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that during that month, we both try to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son, Ahmed, had his matric exams in a month, and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more. She asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every morning for the duration of the month, I carry her from our bedroom to the front door. I thought she was going crazy.
Just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request. I told Mary Anne about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. "No matter what tricks she has, she has to face the divorce," she said scornfully. Ameera and I hadn't had any intimate contact since I explicitly expressed my intention to divorce. So, when I carried her out on the first day, we both seemed clumsy.
Our son, Ahmed, clapped behind us, "Daddy is holding Mummy in his arms!" His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, "Don't tell Ahmed about the divorce." I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She was a teacher at a local madressa( Islamic School) and went to wait for the madressa bus to fetch her. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, we both acted much more easily. She leaned against my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her abaya. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young anymore. There were fine wrinkles on her face, and her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute, I wondered what I had done to Ameera.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given twenty years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth days, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Mary Anne about this. It became easier to carry her as the month went by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
One morning, she was choosing what to wear. She tried on quite a few dresses but couldn't find a suitable one. Then she sighed, "All my dresses have grown bigger." I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, which was why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly, it hit me – she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart.
Subconsciously, I reached out and touched her head. Our son, Ahmed, came in at that moment and said, "Dad, it's time to carry Mum out." To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life.
Ameera gestured to our son to come close and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at the last minute. Then I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it felt just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms, I could hardly move a step. Ahmed had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, "I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy."
I drove to the office and jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind. I walked upstairs. Mary Anne opened the door, and I said to her, "Sorry, Mary Anne, I don't want the divorce anymore."
She looked at me, astonished, then touched my forehead. "Do you have a fever?" she asked. I moved her hand off my head. "Sorry, Mary Anne," I said, "I won't divorce. My marriage was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day, I am supposed to hold her until one of us departs this world."
Mary Anne seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap, then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote: *"I will InshaAllah carry you out every morning until one of us leaves this world!"*
The small details of our lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, the property, or the bank balance that truly matters. These create an environment of comfort but cannot give happiness in themselves. So, find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build a strong relationship.
Allah says in the Qur'an: *"Men are the supporters of women, because Allah has given some of them an advantage over others, and because they spend (to support them) from their means. So, righteous women are devoutly obedient and guard in the husband's absence what Allah orders them to guard (their chastity, their husbands' property, etc.)."* (Qur'an 4:34)
Abu Hurairah narrated that the Messenger of Allah Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: *"The believers who show the most perfect faith are those who have the best disposition, and the best of you are those who are best to their wives."*
Our marriages should not be taken for granted. Love is often best expressed through sweet and thoughtful messages and little thoughtful actions that brighten your spouse's day. These little tokens of affection can go a long way in reminding each other how much you mean to each other!
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