Just now, I looked through my jewellery box and found a rusty old ring of mine. I had fallen hard for the Perlini’s silver ring during my second year of JC – it was matt silver with a single, ickle crystal in the middle. It had cost me a princely $35 then and had been a joint purchase.
It only struck me later that I had tossed it into the bin without a second thought.
After almost 8 years, it’s finally at where it should have gone a long time ago.
The boyfriend turned to me, as we sat in the bus that runs in Sentosa while the rain poured around us, and asked me in a genuinely perplexed tone why I wanted to hold our wedding there.
I pondered for a nanosecond before replying, honestly, that I couldn’t really say why. It was one of those feelings, I said, like how I had coveted that Zara dress.
He burst out laughing, even though it was grey and miserably cold and we were late for our appointment and there had not been any parking lots in the hotel (hence the bus).
Despite the prohibitive prices, I am glad we are going ahead because, as he said, “it’s once in a lifetime so let’s make it a spectacular one.”
Even though I am not a Christian, I have always been fascinated by the idea of walking down the aisle and having my father give me away. I admire and respect the process of reciting the wedding vows and exchanging rings, it somehow lends more weight to the ceremony. It shouldn’t be just a 20-minute formality where the highlight is the signing of the certificate.
Watching this couple’s videography of their wedding brought tears into my eyes. And I know, I want a ceremony as solemn and filled with love as theirs.
My dad may not be able to walk me down the aisle but I think my mother would be a more than remarkable replacement.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Wherever you are.