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A decade ago, highlights included the junk in his trunk, and the fact that he lit candles and kept a box of Powerbars at hand.He paid for a phenomenal amount of Kamakura sushi, and held my hand stoically during brisk outdoor walks.When I fell ill, he brought over Cinema Paradiso & Mulan, accompanied by Chinese porridge for my tummy.
P was the one who re-formatted and printed out the book-length final draft of my doctoral dissertation, after I had collapsed in our office and simply refused to look at it anymore.
Six years ago, assets were displayed at the Mountain Winery wedding he co-planned and paid for and by the black “engagement RAV4” I drove.
We were the picture of happiness on our postcard perfect Belize lunamiel.We both had such great abs back then!He let me lead him to a country he literally couldn’t find on the map, and into the jungles and ruins where mosquitoes favored his fair skin.He plunged with me into shark-ray alley, and we took murky underwater photos in turquoise seas.
Ten years in, love, and making a life with someone, looks quite different.
It’s still important to me that he’s maintained his backside, and he continues to supply a massive quantities of sushi.
Yet these days, I am reminded how lucky I am when I get home from work at 9pm, and there is a hot pizza waiting and the garbage is already on the curb.These days, the stability of my love come from all sorts of experiences which I never even imagined back in 1999.
My travel dreams have come true with P as we hit 10 countries in 10 years.Fantastical places like Iguazu Falls, Tikal, Isla Ometepe, Buenos Aires, Angkor Wat, and Phuket.
Much more importantly, P is the only person who has walked with me, down numerous hospital corridors.He met Grandma Yang, boozed and laughed with her before she sunk into the depths of dementia and became lost to us.He stood awkwardly yet bravely by the Alzheimers bed of Grandma Hsu, and burned incense and paper money with us for her last year. It is P who has held my hand at multiple funerals, and cried as I delivered a wrenchingly painful eulogy for a friend I deeply loved.P is the only person who totally won my family over, to the point that I sometimes suspect they are in cahoots against me…
Married life as I understand it thus far is like this: one autumn night I may find myself on a cupcake and wine high, dancing with my love as we holler/sing 80’s songs across the dance floor.It’s someone who holds my hand in his lap throughout dinner and takes photos of me despite the 10 thousand we already have.The very next day may find us in a seething huff, his genetic inability to be timely, by genetic incapacity to be tidy-both people in a sulk.But it’s OK. Because inevitably now we understand, that for every F.O.O. fight (family of origin) or eyeball rolling moment, there will be a new adventure, a sweet gesture.
I understand now that it doesn’t matter if he makes fun of my “white music” and will not accompany me in triathalons.If he is not enraptured with fruits and books as I am… We have beloved friends and family to fill other needs.I notice when he passes me the nicer things (like eating the old leftovers while I get the new one, and taking the old ratty yoga strap for yourself while I again, get the new one).
Happy Anniversary to us! So what if the weather was crap and our Napa balloon flight was canceled?We didn’t pitch a fit, just went back to bed and later had an extraordinary day eating ourselves into a coma amongst friends at Oxbow Public Market.Here’s to many more glasses of wine raised in toast as the years roll on…
