Memorable Dates, Meaningful Conversations, Shared Dreams
18 August 2026
Today’s evening was a very special one with my sundi, my fiancé, with whom I look forward to spending the rest of my life. We spent the evening talking about life goals, what life is meant to be, the animals we love, some of the things we did as children, our experiences growing up, our faith, our work, and many other things. It was one of the funniest evenings we have had together. We talked, laughed, shared insights, talked about the day, and remembered so many things from our childhoods. It was one of those evenings where one conversation naturally led to another, and before we realised it, we had talked about so many different aspects of our lives.
My sundi told me that she had done a lot today. Her best friend since high school, whom she had taken care of while she was admitted to hospital and undergoing surgery, had finally been discharged. She was able to drop her friend at her house. It was a great relief and joy to my sundi and to her friend as well. It was a priceless moment. The joy I saw in my sundi’s eyes and heart was unimaginable when she spoke about seeing someone whom she holds dear in her heart recover and return home. Some moments in life cannot be measured by money or material things, and seeing someone you care about recover and return home is certainly one of them.
But on the same day, another tragic event happened when one of her patients lost his life in her ward. It was heartbreaking knowing how she always gives her very best in caring for her patients and trying to save lives. She told me that there was a procedure that needed to be done, but according to the hospital SOP, only doctors were authorised to perform it. She said she felt she could do it because the doctor was quite busy, and she had independently done a couple of similar procedures before. However, as she was considering whether to proceed, a still, small voice in her told her to hesitate and wait for the doctor to administer it. She listened to that voice and waited.
While she was checking on her other patients, she lifted her head and saw the doctor now with that sickly patient. As the doctor began to administer the procedure, a few moments later, the patient passed on. She finally understood what it meant in that instant. If she had done it, she would ultimately have been blamed for his death. Thank God for that still, small voice, and for His grace and love. It was a moment of sadness and joy as we shared the story. There was sadness because a life had been lost. Still, there was also gratitude because she had listened, waited, and followed the hospital’s procedure by allowing the authorised doctor to administer it.
My sundi is one of the most resilient people I have ever known. Despite the hectic demands of her work at the hospital, she still managed to take a break and care for the people she loved. Nurses are the most caring angels in human form. They carry the responsibility of caring for people during some of the most difficult moments of their lives, and my sundi, as I’ve witnessed, is one of those people who gives her very best to that responsibility gracefully.
I then asked her what the scariest thing that had happened to her in her workplace was. She told me about a blackout that lasted for more than four hours and continued into the night. There was a patient who was in constant pain and almost passed away. During the blackout, there was a rushing wind that swung their ward door wide open. The patient’s wife said that this blackout, together with the rushing wind and the ward door suddenly swinging open, was because her husband’s sorcerer uncles had come to take him home. It was a terrifying experience that continued for hours while the blackout endured. Listening to her tell the story, I could imagine how frightening that experience must have been for her and everyone else in the ward.
As we talked about life, she eventually asked me, “How do you view life?” I told her that Bata Des is not afraid of death. What I fear most is being dead without unleashing my full potential, talents, gifts, and skills to help others and make this world a better place. I told my sundi that one of the worst sins I can ever commit against myself and against God is not fully utilising my potential to better the world and to die with all my unused potential, talents, and gifts still within me. I do not want to reach the end of my life knowing that there was more I could have done with what God gave me.
I told her that I am not afraid of death because I know, as a Spirit-filled Christian, indwelt by God’s Holy Spirit, that my eternal life is guaranteed. Even if I die tonight or at any time from now on, I know I will be saved in God’s kingdom. That gives me a different perspective about death. I am not afraid of dying. However, what concerns me more is dying without fulfilling the potential, talents, gifts, and skills that God has given me and without using them to help others and make the world a better place. My sundi responded, “Oh wow, that’s an interesting perspective. I did not see it that way, thank you.”
I then asked her about her own perspective on life and her personal goals. She said, “I am a go-getter. If I set my mind to do or achieve something, I give it my all and go all in, with no turning back”. She appreciates and learns from failures, setbacks, and challenges, and gets better at achieving what she sets her heart and mind to accomplish. She related this to her experience in school, where she defeated all odds to become one of the brightest pupils. That opened her world to different places and eventually to the career she is now building.
She reminisced about how she would spend hours studying, reading, memorising notes, and writing because she wanted to become better and secure a place in secondary school. He dad would block off a portion of their living room to cater for her study space. That goal motivated her to study hard. She did not simply become academically bright by chance. She worked for it. She spent the time studying, reading, writing, and improving herself until she became better. I really appreciated hearing that because it showed me that the person she is today was built through determination and effort.
I also shared with her what I was like when I was younger. I told her that I was one of the worst-behaved kids in the family, and I was also like that at school. I was not always the academically bright person, but gradually I became one later in my academic journey. I told her about how I did not get the prize in Grade 1 and about the experience that eventually became a turning point and made me better.
In Grade 1, I came eighth in my class rankings. The prizes were only awarded to those who came from first to fourth, so I did not receive a prize. But as a young child, I did not understand the ranking system properly. I simply knew that I had worked hard and expected to receive a prize, and when I did not, I became very upset. I cried, and in my childish anger, I even swore at my parents and teachers.
It was only later, when I received my report and my parents explained to me that I had actually come eighth in my class placement and that the prizes were only given to the first four students, that I finally understood why I had not received one. Looking back, it was a simple misunderstanding by a young child, but that experience became a significant turning point for me.
From Grade 2 onward, I maintained my academic performance, all by God’s grace. I continued to do my best in my studies and became more serious about my education.
That experience changed something in me. I realised that I could not continue being the same boy I had been. I became more serious about school, started putting more effort into my education, and became more focused. Over time, I became academically bright.
Looking back, it is interesting to think about how some of the experiences that hurt, disappointed, or embarrassed us when we were young can eventually become the very experiences that push us to become better than who we once were. My sundi and I had different journeys, but there was something similar in both of our stories. Neither of us simply became who we are today by chance. She spent hours studying, reading, and writing, while I had my own experience that eventually pushed me to change and take education more seriously. In different ways, we both learned that becoming better required effort, discipline, determination, and faith.
As we talked about our experiences, we realised that we shared something important in how we view life: we can do our very best, give everything we have, work hard, learn from our failures and setbacks, and then trust God for the rest. We may not always know what the outcome will be, but we can be confident that we have done our part and leave the rest in God’s hands.
As we became more comfortable sharing our childhood experiences, I also told her about some of the things that shaped me as a young boy, including my short-fused temper, my scars, and the stories behind them. I told her about my bubu’s piglet that used to mess around our yard. In one moment of anger after returning from school on a Tuesday afternoon, I almost killed it with my grandfather’s walking stick. I also told her about my own cat, Tim. In another moment of anger, I smashed his head with a sago bamboo stick. Those are things I am not proud of today, but I remember that after those moments, I prayed. I prayed for both of them, and miraculously, they survived using what I learnt from Sunday School and from my parents and bubus. Those experiences stayed with me and are part of the story of the boy I was growing up to become.
I also told her about my experiences with dogs, our family names for our dogs, and the memories associated with them. At one point, we had an old female dog that became very special to me and my parents. When the dog became seriously ill, I desperately wanted her to live. I even forced my dad to pray for our old dog because I desperately wanted God to save it. When my dog eventually died, I cried terribly. As a young boy, I did not have the words to explain how much I loved that dog. I simply knew that she was a member of our family, and I loved her and did not want to lose her.
We both laughed when I told her this story, especially when I explained how I had forced my dad to pray for the dog and then cried terribly when my dog died. Looking back, I can imagine how emotional I must have been as a young boy, and we both laughed at how deeply attached I was to my dog. But beneath the laughter was a genuine memory of how much I loved that dog and how painful it was for me to lose it. Some of our childhood stories were funny, some embarrassing, and some difficult to believe when we looked back at the children we once were, but it was beautiful that we could share them and laugh together.
My sundi also told me about her love for dogs. Her first dog was a German Shepherd, whom she left when they moved back to Port Moresby from the village. Later, her dad brought her another female dog, a sheepdog, whom she named Jabi, after the street they lived on, Jabiru Drive, Gordons. Later, Jabi gave birth to her first puppy. Unfortunately, someone stole that puppy, and Jabi became my sundi’s best dog. My sundi said this dog follows them everywhere, even to market, school, or the shop. Sundi also said that she never slept outside, and she would always have a corner of herself inside the house. A unique pet dog, I’d say. I enjoyed hearing her talk about these memories because it reminded me that dogs had been an important part of both of our childhoods. They were not simply animals that lived around the house; they became part of our families and our memories.
We then talked about how each of us came to be baptised in our church and what made us finally decide that we would commit our lives to God, get baptised, and become committed and faithful, Spirit-filled Christians. My sundi said she got baptised in 2015; she had made up her mind that she needed God to guide her through life. Having Him in her life gave her the confidence and courage to know that she had someone who could be with her and guide her through life with confidence, hope, and assurance. She made up her mind to get baptised, told her parents about it, and then got baptised.
Unlike hers, my story about how I got baptised was very different. I was baptised in 2011 while I was at school away from home. One Sunday, I decided to attend church. It was a dull Sunday, at least in my own judgement at the time, and I found myself indicating for baptism and being baptised. After I got baptised, I came back to my dormitory room and asked myself, “What did I just do?” I knew it was a lifetime commitment and that there was no turning back. I spent almost two months grappling with my mind about becoming a Christian and not turning back.
I know I did not experience what I thought at the time was “life to the fullest” as a young teen because I knew that when I became a true Christian, I would say no to many of the things—both good and bad—that I believed could make me a man according to the standards of the world. Looking back, I told my sundi that it was the toughest decision I made, and it saved me from all the troubles of life I would have had to go through as a young teen: peer pressure, cults, and many other things that I feared terribly. At the time, it was difficult, but today I can see how much that decision shaped and protected my life.
Our faith has also been part of the things we have shared. There have been times when church brethren were admitted to hospital, and I would go and visit them. We would sometimes buy food for them, and my sundi would join me in their ward. We would pray with them, encourage them, and spend time with them. Sometimes, I would get a call from the congregation that they are at hospital, and I would advise my sundi if she has time when on duty, she can check on them, and she normally does that. And I am always grateful to her for the service in saving lives and helping others. We have also helped others and served together in our local church. Looking back, those are some of the things I consider both fun and meaningful because we were not only spending time together; we were also serving others together.
Today’s evening was even more special because of where we went for dinner. I had mentioned the place to her before that we would go there one evening for a date, although I had never revealed to her that I had personally not been there. I only knew about it from reading it on social media and hearing about it from colleagues and friends. She had never been there either, so we just blindly went, and eventually, as we approached the building, she asked me where the drive in, I said I’d never been here. Who knows whether she’s angry in her mind or not; all I could see was that she just turned her head over and smiled, and we asked the guards to direct us. I owned up and frankly said, “I’m sorry, my love, I’ve never been inside this place. Let’s just go and explore”, and I had a smirk. Eventually, we got in. It turned out to be one of the best dates ever. Neither of us knew the place, but it became a simple, cosy, and lovable moment. Sometimes the best memories are created without much planning. We simply went somewhere new together, found our way, sat together, ate, talked, laughed, and created another memory.
The best part of our dates is when we go to the market or shop together. My sundi is really good at bargaining and negotiating with the sellers, and she is so fun to be around. We crack jokes, create more memories, and just become lively together. I love those ordinary moments because they remind me that life together will not always be about big celebrations or extraordinary occasions. Sometimes it will simply be the two of us sharing our favourite chocolate bars, walking around a market, negotiating with a seller, laughing about something silly, and enjoying each other’s company.
As I reflect on our conversation, I realise that we were not simply talking about our lives. We were discovering each other. We talked about life and death, purpose, work, fear, resilience, ambition, childhood, dogs, our scars, our mistakes, education, faith, baptism, service, and the things that have shaped us. And throughout it all, we laughed.
I learned more about the woman I am engaged to—her strength, compassion, determination, childhood, faith, experiences at work, academic journey, and the person she wants to become. At the same time, I was able to share more of myself with her—my own view of life, my thoughts about death, my faith, my childhood experiences, my scars, my childhood mistakes, my love for animals, my academic journey, my baptism story, and my desire to use whatever potential God has given me to make a difference. She also gets to know me and learn about me, the man whom she’s engaged to.
Perhaps this is one of the beautiful things about being engaged and preparing for marriage. We are not simply preparing for a wedding; we are preparing to share a life. That means learning each other’s stories, fears, dreams, beliefs, experiences, and where each person hopes to go.
This evening reminded me that love is not only found in big romantic moments. Sometimes love is sitting together and asking, “How do you view life?” Sometimes it is listening to stories you have never heard before, or hearing old memories repeated and viewed from a different perspective. Sometimes it is sharing difficult decisions you have made. Sometimes it is talking about faith and God. Sometimes it is laughing about childhood memories, dogs and other pets. Sometimes it is remembering the foolish things you did as children and being able to laugh about them together.
Sometimes it is hearing about the little girl who spent hours reading, studying, memorising, and writing to become better. Sometimes it is remembering the little boy who was once one of the worst-behaved kids in the family and at school, who did not receive the prize in Grade 1, but eventually became academically bright. Sometimes it is remembering the dogs we loved, the animals we hurt, the prayers we prayed, the scars we carry, and the experiences that shaped us.
Sometimes it is getting lost trying to find a place neither of us has visited before. Sometimes it is watching my sundi bargain with a market seller. Sometimes it is visiting someone in hospital, buying food for them, praying with them, or serving together in church. And sometimes it is simply sitting beside the person you love, talking about life until you realise that you have discovered another part of the person you hope to spend the rest of your life with.
Every date, every moment shared, including the 18 August 2026 one, will remain a memorable date for me, for my sundi, and for us together. Not because we did anything extravagant or went somewhere extraordinary, but because on that evening, two people who are engaged to build a life together opened their hearts, shared their stories, talked about their faith, reflected on life and death, laughed about their childhoods, remembered the animals they loved, shared their scars and childhood experiences, talked about education and the struggles that shaped them, remembered the ways we have served others together, and dreamed about the future.
It could be a simple afternoon, evening, morning, or midday; whenever and wherever it may be, it was all priceless.
And I am grateful that I got to experience all of it with my morie.
And I look forward to enjoying the rest of my life with my melaide.
Together, we will ride on those beautiful flying fox wings toward the land of the setting sun, picking the ripe fruits along our journey and planting their seeds along the way, so that they may germinate, grow into trees, and bear new fruit for those who come after us.
Until then,
Oiss oh!
Written by J-Fox & Bata Des
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