Usually by 8 January, which is our wedding anniversary, my husband and I have “celebration burnout”, which means, we think we can’t drink another sip of champagne.
But who am I kidding? There is ALWAYS space for one more sip of champagne (or in our case, 2 bottles).
I met my hubby in junior college — a time many consider the “trial period” of relationships. After all, we were only 17 or 18 and this would be our first relationship.
But for us, we were classmates before any hint of romance ever clouded the picture. He was the king of GP in class, and I was put out that I was NOT queen of GP in class. After all, that was all I was good at — writing opinion editorials.
He wanted to be a journalist — and would have made a Pulitzer Prize-level one — while I wanted to be a lawyer. But as God would have it, he became the lawyer and I became the writer. I still say, to this day, that Walter Woon was the definitive factor in my career. Dr Woon had asked me at my law interview if I would defend a man who was a murderer, and I said, “Absolutely not.”
Apparently, my scruples were not pointed in the right direction for Law Faculty, NUS.
Anyway, we met again at the traffic light leading to Orchard Cinema (now Orchard Cineleisure and I’m not sure if there is a traffic light there anymore). I was now in contact lenses and had Shakira hair (read: I was irresistible, har har) and we started dating.
Fast forward: after 8 years of dating, we got married in 1995.
Fast forward x 16: After 16 years we are sitting, once again, at Fullerton Hotel’s Town Restaurant for the best champagne brunch in the world. I mean, the UNIVERSE.
Freeflow Moet champers. Lobster tails. Fresh-shucked oysters. Sashimi that tastes of the sea. Eggs Benedict. And 50 cheeses.
Has it always been Moet and lobster? No.
It has been three kids — one premature who needed to be resuscitated. It has been marital fights that bordered on one of us moving out to a hotel. It has been his brain tumour and habitual headaches. And as of last year, it has been my cancer.
But through it all, God had a plan. We didn’t even know God till 2003. I was saved on 6 October 2003, a Monday afternoon at 12.50pm. And our lives (separately) and together as one in God’s eyes, have never been the same again.
Fullerton remains the same, but our conversations — as the waiter is topping up our 6th glass of champagne — centre around our Lord, and what He wants us to do, the places He has put us in to make a difference, the encouragement He sends in the form of people and circumstances.
Our marriage was good from 1995-2004. It became truly great from 2004-2011 and I pray it will continue to grow from strength to strength.
I can only thank Father God for this man who, as my partner, makes my life worth living, is the world’s best Dad to our three munchkins, is my lover, my friend, truly, my better half. I could not live this difficult life without him — and I daresay, he without me. We are one — God has joined us — and as one, we want to live a life that makes a difference.
Honey if you’re reading this, I love you. Words are grossly inadequate, but I love you as fully, overflowing, as my heart could possibly love. I thank God for you every single day, that there is another half of me to live this fabulous life with me, to chuckle at my inane jokes, to make orgasmic faces at my cooking, to re-watch X-Files DVDs with, to serve God together with, to help people experience Christ in their every day lives with.
Happy 16th anniversary.