The 26th April 2014 is their wedding anniversary. It would be 28 years. That morning, 28 years ago, they caught the bus together to registry office. They had no money. She wore a smart, grey suit/dress. He wore a mullet haircut and a 1980's 'tache. They were so young. They had a little baby boy and an unborn baby girl. There's a photo of them on the day; she's holding the baby boy and looks beautiful, but tired. He's eating cake and looks sweet. They are relaxed together.

My dad said he didn't propose because as far as he was concerned, they were already married. She said to him when she discovered she was pregnant for the second time, "Shall we get married then?" and he said, "Yes".
She wanted his name. She loved him so much.
It wasn't all loving bliss. I remember plate throwing and dramatic arguments. I remember the price paid for such passion. But more than all of that, I remember him loving her and taking care of her. I remember him putting her first always. His princess. He'd wait for her to come home from work, take off her boots, listen to her chit-chat away, soothe her, stroke her, put her to bed. He'd settle her down and pretend he was coming to sleep too. Then about an hour later he'd sneak out, back into the living room to watch TV. Within no time at all she'd be back to get him: Semi-conscious, indignant and demanding, "WHERE DID YOU GO? COME BACK!" And he always would.
Yes, my dad was always so pleased to see his Jacqueline.
Come and have a rest, my princess. You work too hard.