The irony of weddings is that you cry because you are blissful. And so it was for Mama, my sister and I when we saw my only brother walk down the aisle, grinning from ear to ear. Rarely do you see all ladies of the family crying at the same time.
It was a wonderful event, the bride resplendent in her gown, the groom very much the debonair, and everyone else equally stately in their own attires. It was a day of colors—a motley of dresses, tuxedos and barong tagalongs, of gaiety and tears, and a day when another couple has played out their shared fairy tale.
It was a wonderful event, the bride resplendent in her gown, the groom very much the debonair, and everyone else equally stately in their own attires. It was a day of colors—a motley of dresses, tuxedos and barong tagalongs, of gaiety and tears, and a day when another couple has played out their shared fairy tale.