I’m about to be the fattest bride in town. While most brides are consciously watching what they eat and subscribing to a fitness regime, I’ve been rather laissez-faire about the whole thing. I have a good mind to trim up, I joke about it but my inability to pass up food hampers my mental will.

It also does not help that I haven’t got much to stress up over the wedding. Again, while most brides are stressed up over the things to get done for the wedding, I am super laid back about it all. While brides are running around preparing for the big day, my days are still leisurely. As a matter of fact, I spend too much time thinking about food and eating.

I’ve got my capable groom to thank. Eli is seriously, God-sent.

He is communicating with the priests, the musicians, the choir, the photographers and videographers, the DJ, the banquet manager, the bank and the tailor. He sourced for the bridal and entourage cars. He even has to book my hairstylist, make-up artist, and see to the flowers and decorations. He is also overseeing the construction of our house!

I have done literally nothing but to pick out my wedding gown. And even that, Eli brought me from designer to designer until we found the one.

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve the life I have, and the wonderful life partner I call my own, but I am grateful. And I plan on using my life to show my forever love just how appreciative I am.

When I was 15, I was exposed to Praise & Worship for the first time as part of the RCIA programme at my parish. My weekly attendance was compulsory in order for me to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation, and “graduate” from Sunday School. Naturally, I wasn’t interested in the sessions and Praise & Worship made it more bearable.

As the lyrics were flashed, I recall thinking to myself just how beautiful those words will be when said to a lover. My subconscious would always tell me, “Duh, at Praise & Worship, you are singing a love song to the lover of your soul.” But I, as a teenager, couldn’t be more eager to find a boy to whom I could borrow those words to express love to!

Alas, while I’ve dated an athlete, an actor and a musician, it wasn’t until I met a businessman that I finally felt it would be less sacrileges to shower such divine love declarations on. He is the only man, I am able to bring myself to express such love and admiration for, with the words I use to praise and thank Jesus.

Eli is the one person who epitomises agape love. From strangers to family, his selfless love is unwavering, his generosity is without bounds. At the marriage preparation course we attended, we were asked at the ice-breakers to describe our partner in one word. Of all his traits I admire, I said, “I love Eli because he is generous”. His generosity allows him to love freely and have the open heart to always see the best in everyone. He is the least judgmental person I know, who trusts everyone and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. Despite living with gossipmonger-me for years, he has constantly refrained from gossiping. Amazing.

There are clearly very many compelling reasons why I’m marrying this beautiful businessman. But just to be sure he is the man God has created to be my life partner and my prayer warrior, it is through him that I’ve come to witness Christ’s divine love. God really loves me through Eli. This is how I know he is The One.

My parents love me by default. Eli chose to love me in spite of my neurotic behaviour. And I guess I must need a very strong prayer warrior to redeem me!

It has been a while since I’ve taken a moment to sit down and do nothing. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to appreciate a piece of music, or sing along to pop music for that matter; even when I’m driving alone, my brain is always working – I’m watching the speed, appreciating the car and plotting my next lane change – I haven’t got the time to bob to what’s playing on the radio. I’ve also not sat down with a work of fiction in months. My crazy expensive art sets are collecting dust.

At the same time, if you were to ask me what have I been busy with, I have absolutely nothing to show for my time. And this is a sad and scary reality.

I wish I could use “work” as a reason for the lack of creative pastimes in my life. But it isn’t, considering I’ve never ever brought work home. I do finish work later than most (because I start later than most) and finish dinner only at 9pm on most days. Sometimes I work out for half an hour to an hour after. I catch up with Eli, and call it a night. Nothing exciting at all.

But, I do go to bed with so much joy in my heart. And it isn’t sad at all that the highlight of my day is to be able to speak with Eli. Even if we can afford only a minute, my most terrible of days gets uplifted just hearing his “hello”. My best of days isn’t complete until I hear his voice.

While I am a little perturbed by the fact that I’ve not sat down to listen to music or read a book in a long time, I really have no right to gripe with what I spend time on. I have a great job doing what I enjoy with the people I like being with. I have time to sit down for a good meal with friends and family. I have time to work out. I have time with my beloved life partner. I have time for prayer. I have time to clock seven hours of sleep – if I’m disciplined to sleep by two.

While I do hope to someday complete a book again and have fun with music, I’m going to embrace my ability to live in the moment. I’m going to keep appreciating the power of the car as I mentally critique the driving skills of fellow road users. I am going to enjoy the ‘stress’ my co-workers and I have over scheduling lunches; a ridiculously challenging feat, as we’ve come to realise. I’m going to spend my commuting hours people watching.

I think I’m getting pretty good at identifying the blessings in my life, and for all the above, I’m happy to trade being the literary and pop culture know-it-all.

Daddy and I had our first father-daughter dance practice this evening. A part of me was a little hesitant to begin because I really do not like attempting something I’m not going to be good at; a trait I definitely inherited from my mother. I am also, quite frankly, afraid to deal with the emotions that will accompany the dance.

I recall looking up songs for the father-daughter dance a year ago. Tears filled my eyes and I was severely overwhelmed with emotions. Eli was away at work and I was by myself, sitting at the site where we’re building our marital home.

Maybe I can’t believe that this is really happening. Maybe I felt a little torn that I will be leaving my parents and starting a family of my own. Maybe my heart of a little girl was feeling like I’m betraying my parents by promising my life to another. It does not help that I have always been particularly close to my father.

At the same time, before me is the place I will make home with the one my heart loves, with whom I share hopes and aspirations that bring me infinite joy. I’ll be married to the most beautiful person I know; so generous, loving and kind. He strives to give me everything I want, to the extent that even my mother says he spoils me too much. Heck! I’m physically seated where our home will overlook the Mediterranean Sea! God has provided me with a good man who shows me daily Christ’s divine love for me in this crazy world.

I know I have lived a very blessed life and I am a very happy child. I’m very excited to be marrying the one my heart loves. And I’m also very aware of what serious business getting married is. It isn’t about the fancy dress, diamonds and lavish reception. Although I’ve got that princess wedding dress, huge bling blings and a romantic resort reception, it is life after the wedding that I really want. I am excited about our marriage.

Eli and I, we’ve been through quite a bit together. We’ve been living the marriage vows even before thinking about taking them. It is with the lived experience – that I have been willing all these years to stand by him for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health – and that he has done the same, that we are entering into this marriage. I know life will be beautiful because I’ve got him to walk with me hand by hand for all eternity.

So I know I am marrying a God-sent man with wonderful parents who already love me as their own daughter. I do also know I’ll always be my daddy’s little girl and my mother’s “sweetheart”. Yet, I have a strong suspicion I’m not going to be able to hold myself together at the wedding. More so if Momma and Dad cry at the wedding!

Fortunately, tonight’s session was more of a lesson than a practice, considering how I’ve forgotten every single thing and dad had to show me every literal step of the way. I can’t be sure about this, but I think, because I do not have formal training and am going into the dance without a preset mind of my own, I do not fight his lead. This will hopefully translate into us flowing quite convincingly well! We’ve got 50 days to go and my father is trying to figure out a routine that will require me to learn as few variations as possible.

Today I wore the diamond ring Eli gave me on my right ring finger, as with the Lebanese tradition. I did it because the fingers on my right hand feel swollen and I want to keep them in check. Alas, I was constantly checking my left ring finger and panicking for a moment that the ring had slipped off of it.

But more than anything else, I felt the physical weight of the ring all over again. Oh, how quickly the body adapts and how forgetful the mind is. I realised how easy it is to get used to something and stop noticing its existence.

I’ve had the ring for a year and a half. I’ve always worn the ring on the left hand where it underwent some beating around the first couple of days. Then I got used to wearing the ring. I stopped feeling the weight of it and was no longer conscious of the battles it goes through for just being mine.

Unfortunately, this is how relationships begin to falter. One might stop feeling the need to work for it and no longer pay close attention to the nuances. Slowly and silently, we begin to notice the persons closest to us, less and less. As we go on living each day, we simply assume things are going to get done for us; dinner has been served, the laundry put away and the bills cleared. It is the “duty” – something that he should do anyway. We no longer look at it as an act of love. We forget our manners. No more please and thank you. More demands. “Why didn’t you do this?!”

Resentment begins to build, eroding the respect so fundamental in a relationship. Anger gnaws away the love. And then, we forget why we fell in love in the first place.

If we’re lucky, something jolts us out of our complacent life before it is too late.

Eli and I made it clear early in our relationship to always show appreciation for one another and to never take each other for granted. While it is easier said than done, I am proud to report that we’ve been doing very well in this aspect. We continue to make requests with “please” and say “thank you” even for the slightest of things. He never questions me, “Why?”, and I continue to make a conscious effort not to. We admit our mistakes and never shy away from “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Eli’s also quick at: “I forgive you.” While I take some coaxing.

We’re both prideful individuals, but we choose to die to ourselves, for each other. This means I put the wants and needs of Eli before my own, and he does the same.

As you can imagine, it isn’t at all easy to swallow my pride and reign in my frustration. But because I love him, I pause for a moment and give myself the growth opportunity to make a feeble attempt at understanding things from his perspective. It also helps that I trust in him and his decision-making process. And I respect his decisions, as he does mine.

At the same time, we don’t always agree. He’s a risk-taker, while I’m very conservative. We come from different cultures and different family upbringing. We have our misunderstandings. He is patient and calm, while I’m impatient and quick tempered. Our list of differences might evolve, but we also have a lifetime of opportunities to grow closer and stronger together.

The key is: no matter how comfortable and familiar we are with each other, to never forget each other. Always keep the passion alive. Change things up from time to time. Continue to whisper words of tenderness, exchange love letters, go on dates, cook together, visit new places, revisit old joints… Pick up his dirty socks with joy, thankful that he’s safely home with you.

I am thankful I have my man to serve every day, and the ability to do so.

Eli’s new assistant reports for work tomorrow. I asked him why he needs a new assistant. He said there’s just too much work to be done. I asked him where was she going to sit. He said she’d share his (office) room for two days, because Friday is the last day for one of the other employee. I asked if she was going to sit on his lap. He laughed and said, “No.” I said: “It’s not funny.”

Is she old? “No, about two, three years younger than me.”

No good. “Why?”

‘Cause you like younger women. “Oh honey!”

Is she Lebanese? Or (suggestively) Russian? “No, she’s German.”

Ooooh, German girls are hot! Or manly. Is she hot or manly? “She’s not manly.”

So she’s HOT! “No, I didn’t say she’s hot.”

But you said she’s not manly. And I asked if she’s hot or manly. If she’s not manly, she must be hot. “Oh honey! I don’t think she’s my type.”

You’re going to give her rides in your new German car, aren’t you? “Well, it’s normal for colleagues to give each other rides along the way.”

THIS IS HOW IT STARTS. First a thank you pat on the arm, then the thigh, then a peck on the cheek, then an invitation to a nightcap! NO CAR FOR YOU. “What shows have you been watching?”

Real life! Let me explain something to you. Men, when they know a woman is spoken for, will back off… Unless the woman offers herself. Women are different. Even if the man is married, they’re going to go after him. “Oh honey! You’ve got to trust.”

This is not about trust. I know women. I’ve written about dealing with the other women. Come let me read it out to you. “Oh honey, no one can replace you.”

Really? “Of course!”

And no one else gets to touch you. “Yes. You’re my heart.”

—
All I really wanted to hear was: No one else can replace you. His stamina and patience in maintaining such conversations with me throughout the last couple of years really endears him to me. And you know what? She can be a hottie but she’s not getting my Eli.

My friends and I were leaving Palais Renaissance late last night, where we had to leave via the back cause it was so late, when I saw the name Orchard Towers and a light bulb went off in my head.

“Oh, so this is Orchard Towers.”

Then we walked into a cloud of scantily clad women who looked like foreigners with really bad make up that failed to hide rather grotesque facial features and girth the size of a large tree trunk.

“Guess it doesn’t matter as long as the lights are off.”

We rounded the corner and a slim Asian woman in a see-through top emerged with two white men. Immediately I’m asking, “Hmmm, is she? No… She’s the wife, right?” And one of them placed his arm around her. I spied wedding bands.

It got me thinking… If I, who is marrying a white man am so critical of an Asian woman with a white man, and immediately stereotyped her, what would others think?

I love to dress up, I have long wavy hair, I take care of my skin and I love hitting town with my beau, who is born with fairer skin, larger deep-set eyes and higher nose. Does that make me a Sarong Party Girl?

I do not exclusively date and prefer white men. But I was courted by one, fell in love and we decided to spend eternity together.

There are many, many, many interracial couplings today, and we continue to attract admiration. I bask in it because I’m so proud of my man and what we have.

I’ll let you in on one of the pranks we used to pull on our daily West Coast Express rides:

We’ll enter the train as strangers, sit in the same train booth, mind our own business, our eyes make contact and we proceed to engage in a show to make fellow commuters gasp.

So much fun!

I actually enjoy playing up stereotypes. And guess what! I do not need to wait till Halloween to unleash the provocative side of me. My relationship with my white man is my best accessory.

In 60 days, I’ll have double the laundry load to do.
I’ll have to wash socks, when I don’t even wear socks.

In 60 days, I’ll have to cook for two when currently I don’t even cook for one.

In 60 days, I’ll have to pick up after myself, plus one.

In 60 days, I’ll have to share a bed with one who loves heat while I’m terribly afraid of it. But I love him so.

In 60 days, I’ll be Eli’s wife and I cannot be more eager!

(This suddenly feels like 60 days too long.)

Eli says when we’re married, today wouldn’t matter because we’d have progressed from engagement to marriage. I disagree! Every significant date should be honoured in our relationship! And gifts for his bride on every occasion wouldn’t hurt.

A year ago, Eli and I celebrated a different stage in our relationship, from courtship to engagement, with an Engagement Blessing witnessed by family and friends gathered at my parents’ house. He had already formally asked my parents for my hand in marriage. He had already proposed and I had accepted. We have been engaged since November 27, 2010, and announcements had gone out.

The Engagement Blessing, really was a natural thing to have in our Christ-centred relationship. Furthermore, engagements are huge in Eli’s culture. It is a tradition whereby instead of the groom going on his one bended knee to propose, his father states his son’s intentions to the bride’s father. They “shake on it” and the children exchange rings to be worn on the right hand. A big dance party follows, much like a wedding itself.

So we took his tradition, and married it with a prayer and special rite, presided over by the priest who saw me through my challenging teenage years.

We know that all of us need God’s blessing at all times; but at the time of their engagement to be married, Christians are in particular need of grace as they prepare themselves to form a new family.

Let us pray, then, for God’s blessing to come upon this couple, our brother Elias and sister Carine: that as they await the day of their wedding, they will grow in mutual respect and in their love for one another; that through their companionship and prayer together they will prepare themselves rightly and chastely for marriage.

To live music, Eli and I exchanged blessed rings, which will be our wedding rings, as a sign of our pledge to each other.

We praise you, Lord, for your gentle plan draws together your children, Elias and Carine, in love for one another. Strengthen their hearts, so that they will keep faith with each other, please you in all things, and so come to the happiness of celebrating the sacrament of their marriage.

The prayers are so beautiful, and I think it is important to revisit them every now and then. In planning for the wedding, we often get caught up in the glitz and budget. Many want to marry in a church for aesthetic reasons. Not because they want to marry in the Church.

And I guess in a way, celebrating today is important because with the challenge of daily life, we do need to grow in mutual respect and love for one another. We must continue to keep faith with each other, till the end of time.

At work, we identify our pieces by our initials. My initals are CL, but my supe said he thinks someone else uses it. So he suggested I use CAR or CR or anything else. I chose CR. This realisation comes about eight months too late, but CR will be my initials when I take my husband’s name. You really can’t deny a match made in heaven.

As I was telling Eli this story, at the mention of CR, Eli said: “It makes me smile.” Then he gave a kiss to the girl who will take his name.