My Dad Gave Me A Husband So He Could Be Free To Marry Again

When my mom died, I decided to go home and stay with my dad. I feared loneliness would kill him before his death date.

My mom was all he had. For the thirty-seven years that they lived together as a married couple, they never went anywhere without each other. When they were going to church, they went together. My dad was always the first to finish. My mom wanted to get her wig right and get the colour of her lipstick on point so she would stay a little longer in front of the mirror. My dad would go and sit in the car waiting. Sometimes he’ll honk to tell my mom to hurry up.

On bad days, they would fight before church. It was not only church. Whenever they had to go somewhere, my mom would be late and my dad would be angry. “Give her twenty-four hours to dress up and she will still be late yet she won’t ever come out looking like Cinderella,” he would say.

When he honks too many times, my mom would scream from the inside, “If you’re in a hurry, go. I’m not forcing you to wait for me.”

They’ll fight before they leave the house but my dad never left my mom behind. Not once. He would do it begrudgingly. He would do it while angry. He would do it while fighting but the most important thing was, he did it. They would fight before they leave the house but they’ll come home smiling as if they were not the old people who fought in the morning.

I shouldn’t have left home, especially when my brother got married before he left home. Especially when my brother had travelled abroad and I was the only one available for them.

I was dating Josh and love was turning my head and heart around so when Josh suggested that he was shy coming home to see me every day, I told my parents I wanted to leave and start life on my own.

They didn’t fight me. They gave men their blessings and I left home because of Josh. They knew him and they loved him. The only boyfriend they both supported. A year after I’d left home for him, he left me for another woman who was paying his bills for him. His final goodbye message was, “I’m sorry I’m being selfish but I know you’ll forgive me.”

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I never forgave him for the pain he caused me. He made me change myself to suit his desires only for him to leave me in the ditch. I was mourning the death of my relationship when Dad called one morning and was crying on the phone. “Your mom…your mom. How could she? I thought I would go before her. Look at what your mom has done to me.”

Mom was never sick. The only time she fell sick, she died. I cried over the death of my mom while my heart was bleeding from the loss of love. I needed a hand on me, a protective hand to calm my bleeding heart. Dad needed a companion too. Someone he could cry on. I packed my things and went back home to be with him.

When Mom was buried, we couldn’t bury our broken hearts with her. We came home with sore feet and hearts that yearned for what was missing—what was lost. My dad became my everything.

We went to church together and went to programs together. One day he sat in the car waiting for me. I was getting late and was expecting him to honk like he used to but he never did. He patiently waited and when I finally got in he said, “You’ve made me sad today. You remember those days I was honking and getting angry? Today, I will give everything I have to have her here with me and be late.”

He never said a word again until we got to our destination. When we were coming back he asked me, “You still don’t have a boyfriend? Don’t tell me you’re still mourning Josh.” I laughed. “Mourn him after two years? I’ve moved on long ago but the men who are coming my way are not worth it.”

The next time I went out with him, he introduced me to his friend and said, “She’s single too. If you have a good chap who needs a good girl, I can help them connect.”

He said it jovially but there was intention to it. It didn’t stop there. In church, he tried to connect me with the sons of wealthy men and noble people. He wanted the best for me but I felt what I wanted wasn’t going to come from those introductions.

One day we went to a funeral and he sat next to a woman he said was his classmate. For the first time, he ignored me and gave all his attention to this woman. When we were driving home he told me, “You know Margaret? She’s my schoolmate. She was the girl’s prefect back when we were in school. She lost her husband too. How sad.”

The way he talked about her, it was obvious he liked her. Another day he was on the phone for like an hour. When the call ended he told me, “You remember that woman we met at the wedding? She was the one I was talking to. I said in my head, “How did he get her number?”

In a month, my dad had about four women dying to date him. He loved Margaret but the rest loved him more. He would go out without me. He would tell me to take care of the house while he was away. He would come back home with a package for me, “Margaret said I should give you this.” Or “Hannah wants you to have this.” “Mercy, you remember her? She says I should give you this.”

My dad was meeting new women every day while my nest was empty. If I were a sick bird, no bird would have flown home to my nest with grains in his beak for me. I would have died hungry and in the cold weather. But my dad, wow. I envied him.

One night he came to my room and we were having a conversation. He told me, “It’s because of you that’s why I’m slowing down on my love life. I’m sixty-four. I don’t have too much time to live. I have plans to die next to a woman I love. I don’t want to go lonely that’s why I’m trying to settle again. You need to meet someone. And you have to do it as soon as possible or you need help?”

He took me to Aunt Hannah’s house, one of the women he was seeing. Her son had returned from abroad and my dad wanted me to meet him. I said, “But Dad, you’re seeing his mother.” He told me, “When he falls for you, it would be a good reason for me to stop seeing his mother. You know where my heart is, right? Margaret. The rest are just friends.”

So I saw Dacosta that day and thought he was a cute man. The introduction my dad did was detailed as if he was reading my biography to him. He said, “You two should excuse us. We have a lot to talk about.” They entered the hall while leaving us in the corridor. Dacosta was good. The conversation flew fluidly without hitches. He got my number and I got his.

Later in the evening, my dad told me, “Hannah feels betrayed but it’s all good. Do you like him? You think he likes you too?”

A week later, I had a date with Dacosta. A week after that date, he proposed. Three days after I’d said yes, he travelled back to the US. My dad was very happy for me but I was being careful. I was thrown at him by my dad so I had to be careful and see if he truly loved me or he was doing it because I was offered to him.

One day Dacosta asked, “Would you love to live here in the US? We can work something out if you want to.”

My yes was feeble but his desire to get me there was stronger. It took him eight months to make everything ready for me to join him. I was leaving my dad once again and I knew I was going to miss him but I wasn’t scared. I knew he wasn’t going to die out of loneliness. He had too many women to die lonely.

Dacosta told his mom about us. He told her I was in the US and we were planning to get married. She felt betrayed once again. “When did she get there? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

According to my dad, she called him and they had a long fight on the phone but trust my dad to press the calm button no matter where it’s located. To date, I want to believe some negotiations went on between the two because her change of mind was very sudden. I talked to her one day and she was no longer angry but very happy about our future.

She told me, “You guys should have come home for your wedding. It’s embarrassing how you’re going to marry so small as if you’re a group of nobodies.”

My dad says nothing happened. They just had a conversation but that man is too sneaky to take his words on a face value.

We got married last year in February. It was a small court wedding with few friends around but it was a happy day for us.

Currently, my dad lives with Margaret. He convinced her to leave her big house and come and live with him. Her kids were very angry about the fact that their mom was marrying again at her age. But my dad told her, “They are mature and living a happy life with their spouses yet they want you to die lonely. They want you home all day to cater for their offspring. They want to use you as the laundry bag, where they dump their dirty clothes without visiting you often. If that’s the life you want for the rest of your life then listen to your kids.”

The kids are now happy. They call my dad “Dad” and I call their mother “Mom.” We call each other “Siblings.” There’s one here who comes to visit me as often as she could.

Life can take a turn any day but I know my dad is ready for it. Love makes him strong and the fact that he has someone next to him every day makes him blossom with age. The last time we talked about death, he told me, “No matter what happens, when I die, bury me next to your mother. I want to be honking on her to hurry up, even after death. That woman is so slow.”

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I know what he’s truly saying is, “Bury me next to your mom. She’s my true love. Our lives came to an end on earth but I still want to do the afterlife with her.”

My dad gave me a man and I’m grateful so I will ensure his last wish is granted to him so he could rest smiling. My brother thinks the same too.

—Justina