Portraits hung on empty walls

Yes, there are still a few things that make me tear up.

Sometimes I wonder why it all fell apart, and it's easy to see all the could've beens when they're staring you in the face. But I don't get envious or jealous anymore. I tell myself that walking around starkers is all I ever want out of life (sometimes I believe it too).
And I figure, I've lived so long without men in the house that it feels very weird if I ever do.

So last Saturday would have been the twenty-second year mark.

You can't not remember stuff like that. You can't pretend those dates never existed or don't matter in the least.
So I acknowledge it, although I don't quite know what to make of it or how to feel about it.

I remember one afternoon, back in Pasir Ris when I was like seven or eight, I found the recorded tape of my parents' wedding. I sat through the entire thing. It was the first wedding I cried at.
Then I wanted (in my douche-y little seven year old brain) to make my mommy feel princessy and bride-like again. So I ran around the house in a whirl, putting up pictures of her in her wedding dress, my parents on the wedding day, and instead of a red carpet, I laid out the sheepskin rug for her.
Of course I didn't really know what to say when she stepped through the front door. So I think I just said, "It's your wedding!" Or something incredibly stupid like that.
I think it must've been kind of painful for my mommy, who probably knew a lot more about what was going on with the marriage than I did.

These days, when I carry Abigayle and wander off with her, I tell her how insanely lucky she is. She will never have to go through anything close to what I ever went through. I tell her how she has absolutely no reason to be a brat and throw tempers and how I hope to God she grows up appreciating what she has.
She's going to be an older sister for the first time. I'm going to be an older sister for the third time. I kind of feel really old.
Anyways, it's a boy.
Abigayle knows how to point out things now. If you ask her where the star is, she'll point to a star. Or a ball. Or the baby. She puts both hands on her mother's tummy when we ask her where the baby is. She's still the baby to me, but I think she'll make a lovely older sister when the time comes.
And truly, I am excited.

Eventually, the dull ache that comes with those two anniversary dates, one that is still celebrated and one that is not, will fade.
Maybe one day we'll find ourselves living entirely different lives, save for the ocassional e-card and snail-mails.
But just like I tell Abigayle to appreciate all that she has, I ought to be grateful for what I had too. It was pretty damn good, after all, albeit for a short while.

Besides, I win hands down because I was born in UK.