January 3, 1993

The weather cooperated. I wore a dress with a floral print to the hotel and me and L and M spent a few minutes taking photos of the sign that read CHUA DE JESUS nuptials. I was not nervous. In fact, I remember being hungry most of the day. T and I spoke once. "See you later," he said, like it was completely normal and ordinary.

At the church, we sat on a bench that had no back. I had to sit up straight so as not to look slouchy. The Company sang for the ceremony - through all that picture-taking. Then the reception. J as emcee. L assisting. Niether got to eat much, I'm told. The pianist played "Our Love Is Here to Stay" which M sang with wistful pathos and a touch of nerve. My Dad looked a bit pale. I could tell my Mom thought the programme went on too long, but I did not care. T said his long list of thank you's like it was the Oscars. When the mike was handed to me, I babbled, then I caught a glimpse of her face. She mouthed the word "Goodnight" to me. I dutifully said good night.

In the hotel suite, there was a large fruit basket - Chinese pears, oranges, a mango and a generous bunch of grapes. We devoured it. When I slipped out of my wedding dress, petals and petals of flowers fell to the floor, from what the guests had tossed at the church.

That was fourteen years ago. It was a good day.