It was January 4, 1979. We had such a laugh, because our minister Kei Kokubun told everyone that was the longest recorded kiss he witnessed in all 20 years of his ministering to wedded couples. We could not help ourselves, laughing heartily, when he said he timed it. When I look at this, I could feel the warmth and depth of my husband’s love and likewise, the gift of struggle I endured at the hands of my father, who banned me from family events when I lived together with him. To discourage me from loving him, my dad said I would not last long. He told me he would not talk to me unless I got married. But love prevails and each year of the last 34 years of being married, we celebrate our anniversary, regardless of our highs and our lows. I remember one anniversary when he took me to the most expensive french restaurant in Brentwood, gave me the biggest, most fragrant bouquet I have ever seen, and where we got served dinner for three hours, cleansing our palate after each dish. The monkey bread was served in a clay pot. I thought that was the end of it. Then, with a smile in his face, this was 1986, he took me to a revolving restaurant downtown in a bank building, with a dancing floor.
41 years ago, when we exchanged our vows in January. My dad was perhaps the happiest of all. Fortunately, we defied the odds against us and persisted to love, to honor, to fight, to struggle, to forgive, to have fun, to dialogue, to depend on each other and to commit to one another every year. #myforevervalentine
My #princess2015la asked when we got married so I shared her the wedding album.
