Michael passed away some few days to our 3rd wedding anniversary. That has been the lowest moment in my life so far. Apart from our daughter being 2 years when it happened, the sight was gory. No need to go into the details but he had a clash with a truck carrying sacks of maize. I was just 27 years.
Five years down the lane, I met and married Kudjo who was 50 and divorced with 3 sons. Truth be told, Kudjo is good looking and conscious of what he eats, when he eats and exercises a lot. It is therefore not surprising that my friends did not believe his age when I showed up at one of our usual Friday meet-ups with him.
Alice and I moved in with my husband and ‘my sons’ some few days after the blessing our marriage. Alice was glad that she had brothers now and they were equally happy to have a sister. Me, I was glad and happy to have found a husband who treated me with love and care like Michael did and I loved him. After living together as a family for 12 months, Kudjo got transferred from Accra to Johannesburg. That meant that I was alone with the children most of the time now.
Daniel, the eldest was 20 and was in the University, Patrick, a replica of his father, was 17 and was waiting to be called into the army. George was 13 and was preparing to go into S.H.S. He was laid back, shy and liked to be by himself. Daniel and Patrick were the exact opposite. When they were home, the place was full of laughter, music, sounds of games, occasional fights and lots of guests. That meant more cleaning and cooking on my part. But I enjoyed it because I had a peculiar liking for Patrick. I think I dotted on him more than I did on Alice. After his morning jogging routines, I hurried to give him a big hug because I liked the sight of his robust, virile, strong well –built body. It had a tingling effect on me especially when he was sweaty. He had firm thighs, a flat tummy, a broad smile and nice smell which were a mixture of odour, his Sure spray and the Polo perfume. I made a conscious effort to await his return just to give him a hug before leaving for work. On days when he delayed, I got angry because I was going to be late for work. It wasn’t until George asked why I did not give he and his other siblings consistent hugs that I realized it was one of the things I looked forward to in life.
But that did not deter me; I took it a step further. Now I would wait till I was sure Patrick was out of the bath, to budge in on him to give him an instruction. One day, I saw what I wanted to see. That too didn’t bring me to my senses, now I wanted him more than ever. Not even Kudjo could satisfy the urge when he came on holidays, granted that they were very much alike in a lot of ways.
I was in love with my son. When he was down, it had an effect on me and when he was happy, I was too. When he had female visitors, I was rude to them because I was jealous.
I have heard people say many times that love is one of the things we do not have control over and my feelings for Patrick is forcing me to believe it. I keep asking myself how and when ‘it’ happened. I have even forced Kudjo to transfer back to Accra (even though he was paid more as an expatriate) because I thought his presence will bring back sanity into my life. But it hasn’t. I have gone a step further to join Patrick to exercise on weekends. I feel so accomplished when he touches my tummy and says, ‘suck it in, mummy’ or supports my waist while I do some squats.
I love Patrick. He is slowly competing for space with Kudjo. George realizes that I love Patrick more than the rest of them. When they even need something, they send him because they know that I cannot refuse him a favour. I spoke with Clarice my best-friend, she thinks I should face my fears, get what I want from Patrick. When my craving is satisfied, I will be free of the emotions. She cannot believe that what I have for Patrick is love and not mere lust.
However, my conscience tells me it is wrong but I do not know how to handle it. I tried to find the answer in the bible but the first chapter I chanced upon when I opened it didn’t seem to be what I should be reading under the circumstance, even though I didn’t read in full; It was the story of Rachel and Leah , two sisters who married the same man, Jacob. Their father, Laban, was Jacob’s uncle and had deceived him into marrying Leah instead of Rachel (Gen. Chp.29-35).
Honestly, believe it or not, I have tried to draw away from Patrick but he is my son. Even when I do not hug or get touchy with him, he goes ahead to do it. He reaches out for a hug, he puts his head on my shoulder, brings his wounds to me to be nursed and tickles me and runs off when I am busily cooking. He admires me when I dress up – ‘mummy, you look pretty and lovely’ – All this makes me love him more. Do I discuss my frustrations with him and ask him to stop? He is old enough to comprehend or will that mar our relationship?
Please help. I am ready and willing to take advice to save my dignity, my marriage and my family from falling apart.
To be continued…
Check Parents’ blogs to read Chapter 2 of the story.