4/30. Green. Green was not our wedding motif, but our garden venue happened to have ferns and trees and vines as permanent fixtures all over the place, which means, about three-quarters of our wedding photos can be posted under this category! (:
Anyway, this photograph I chose was taken just before I walked down the aisle. David was already in front, serenading me one last time before I became his wife, and there I was at the back, seconds away from my bridal march, still unable to believe that the moment had finally come.
Green reminds me of life, and I like how the color represented just that on our wedding.
On a sad (but totally related) note, there’s this blogger whose husband recently died of a heart attack after 16 years of marriage. I didn’t know Jennie Perillo until yesterday when I landed on her site after some aimless blog-hopping. It was August 7 when her husband died, just a week before our wedding. Reading through her posts, I had this sinking feeling in my stomach at the thought that, as I was starting my life with David, someone else was mourning over the death of her husband. I cried and cried, reading Jennie’s posts. What used to be a blog teeming with delicious recipes and vibrant photos of food now floods with Jennie’s grief—recollections of that fateful day her husband passed away, thoughts about life, death, and moving forward, and love letters to her husband that one could only wish he could read, wherever he is.
I kept reading, I even went through her archives to find posts about her husband Mikey. I don’t think she wrote about him when he was alive as much as she did now that he’s gone.
I don’t know Jennie, but her loss hit close to home as I realized how much my life now is tightly intertwined with someone else’s life.. and how losing this person would be just like losing myself. I don’t even want to imagine how Jennie feels.
From Jennie Perillo‘s blog, this photograph just moved me to tears.
After reading Jennie’s blog last night, I went to bed and embraced my husband tighter, held him closer, and thought to myself, this is my life now. He is my life now. It’s ironic how this feeling of security that comes with having someone beside you for better or for worse for as long as you both shall live, can be the very same thing that makes you panic sometimes.
Lessons learned:
Life is short, invest in time. Don’t hold back words of encouragement and affirmations from people you love—say them, out loud. Don’t dwell on the bad, hold on to the good. Don’t let your differences (or even the fear of death) get in the way of happiness. Live today to the fullest for tomorrow is still God’s.
Never be ashamed to show love. Hold hands in public places, stop in the middle of sidewalks to share a hug or a kiss, post cheesy stuff on Facebook walls even if it makes others cringe (they can unsubscribe all they want). There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve.
Above all, love deeply, freely, unabashed. Waste no time.
*This is for Reah, who also cried over the death of Camille Prat’s husband.
I think I know exactly what you feel.
I’d love that, dear. I love you.
I am not going anywhere. I am here. With you. We will have many wonderful memories. Together. I promise. :)