Two of Us

13, going on 14

Dear husband,

And just like that, we have spent 13 years of our lives together.

As Shakespeare said, the course of true love never did run smooth. If so, then man, our love has to be the truest of the true. Because somehow, the Universe always throws us a hurdle or curveball or two, and is all TAH-DAH, YOU SUCKERS.

Despite all the challenges that we had faced throughout our years together, I have never regretted putting my hand into yours that night on the Benjamin Sheares Bridge as we crossed into the new millennium, light flares and fireworks illuminating the dark sky. Not once, not even when we were faced with joblessness, lack of money, lack of direction.

And yet, as we entered parenthood, I found myself flirting with the idea of how my life would have been had I turned into another direction during our cobbled walk down the path of life.

In all honesty, being the mother of your child is one of the most pressurising hats that I have ever put on. There were moments when I absolutely hated it. Don’t get me wrong, I love you and I love my child. But it’s not easy being the womb that birthed the only grandchild in the family. It wasn’t something I had signed up for when I married you, I certainly did not envision marrying the rest of your family as well when I said “I do”.

It doesn’t help that our marriage has also taken a backseat to parenthood. We are always tired, constantly changing diapers, making sure that the little man is happy and clean and fed and entertained. But we forget that we need to make time for each other too. As much as he is growing and blossoming, so should our marriage. We need to drag out even the smallest bit of effort in order to make this work.

13 is the luckiest number? Perhaps so, in our case. We were blessed with the child that we have always longed for and he is everything that we had imagined and more.

But what’s better than 13? Why, 14, of course!

Love you always.