This Precious Life

Last week, I met the bewildering-looking couple on earth. If you were to use couple’s photos to play Old Maid and your task is to match the male half with the female half, you never would have thought that this couple belong to the same team, they look as different as heaven and earth, east and west, trees and birds, et cetera.

The male is a Korean, the female is an African. The male is cream-coloured, the female is dark-toned. The male has slit eyes, the female has big, beautiful eyes. The male is petite, the female is as big as a house. I have seen many multiracial couples in Malaysia and Singapore but none looked as incompatible as them.

I’m quite sure I’m not the only one who thought this way when we found out that they not only belong together, they are married, and happily so for a good number of years, and in case anyone still doubted, here’s their three playful children. Yep!

The reason I know I was not the only one who was taken aback was because the male is an invited speaker and when he was up, the emcee couldn’t help asking the most obvious question: “How did you and your wife meet?”
The audience chuckled while the man grinned and blushed. Well, the story of their courtship is a very sweet one and I would love to tell it to you in person if you ask. But what stuck in me deepest was the last sentence that came out of his mouth.

He said, “Don’t marry someone you can get along with. Marry someone you can not live without.”

His words are similar to what the fiancé said when I asked why he decided to propose, except the fiancé’s words tumbled out in long reflections that became sentences and paragraphs. It is a nice feeling to be accepted despite that he can’t stand my idiocy most times. If I were to paint a portrait to describe this feeling, it would be the portrait of a person with a knitted shawl around her shoulders, and the shawl has no holes.

I am also now an aunt and it makes me feel very ignored. I hover over the baby boy and sing at the top of my lungs to get him to open his eyes but he keeps them tightly shut as he soundly sleeps, completely ignoring the voice that proves my existence. How rude! May he change from the little silkworm encased in a cocoon of white threads as he is now and grow in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man, amen.

Oh, by the way, the baby is keeping a stash of Guinness Stout in the bathroom. Can you guess why?

Hint: It is not for drinking while bathing. Think of Cleopatra and what she does with milk. ;)

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