Seventeen years ago today DH and I got married in front of a friend, DH’s sister, and my parents at the Justice of the Peace in Hong Kong.
If you ask DH to tell you our marriage story it will go something like this: “Immigration in Hong Kong thought she was a hooker. They weren’t going to renew her visa, so I asked her to marry me.” He doesn’t think the marriage is still legally binding since we got married in Hong Kong when it was a British Territory, and now it is a special administrative region of China. Such a romantic, that one.
We survived living overseas, a year apart, a year together in the back of the Bronco, a typhoon, a forest fire, three kids and countless other bumps and bruises.
And I would do it all over again.