OUR PERFECT IMPERFECT WEDDING: PART 3 / JULY 15,2006

Back to the blast from the past! Part 3. Read on. =)

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There's something about having the veil pulled over your head that changes the way you see the world. For a moment, your vision is blurred. It's like looking out to the garden through a very flimsy curtain. You can see the shapes with reasonable certainty, yes, but you are perfectly aware that things could take on a different dimension once you step out to actually experience them. I always knew wearing the veil was symbolic, but I was not prepared for the deeper symbolism it would hold for me. As the heavy church doors slowly parted, the first thing that hit me was the darkness inside the church, broken only by the faint lights of the ancient chandeliers. It was in direct contrast to the brightness outside.

The Nuestra Senora de Gracia was built in the 1800's by Augustinian friars. It is actually quite a feat that this church remained well-preserved in its centuries-old glory right in the middle of cosmopolitan Makati. The only concession it gave to the modern times was the the improvement of the sound system and the addition of electric fans (but only on the side, perched unobtrusively on the church walls). Everything else has probably been there from the time the church was first built--from the unfinished stone walls to the unpolished brass chandeliers to the simple stained glass windows to the very solemn altar where a statue of Mama Mary, as opposed to Christ on the cross, held center stage.

On this particular rainy afternoon in July, I crossed the threshold. From the brightness of the church grounds into the relative darkness of the church itself. Such a perfect metaphor, I thought, for the fact that I was leaving the sureness of the single life (which I have already seemed to master) for the uncertainty of a whole new adventure. Some would think it absurd; I would not have had it any other way. =)

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, guided by the light from the ancient chandeliers and the soft glow of the lights illuminating the statues at the altar. Ah, yes, the altar. I suppose it is only right that as soon as the church doors opened, the one person I wanted to see--the one person I deliberately looked for--was my groom, and there he was, standing by the altar, waiting for me. My heart did a silent dance. Almost instantaneously, the silence was broken as my other senses reawakened to the sound of the keyboards, playing the opening strain of the wedding march I have personally chosen. The words began to play in my head even before the choir could start to sing.

Ikaw lamang ang pangakong mahalin
Sa isang sumpang, sa Iyo magpakailan pa man.
Yakapin mo, bawat sandali,
Ang buhay kong sumpang sa 'Yo lamang alay
At mapapawi ang takot sa 'kin.
Pangakong walang hanggan...

I started to walk down the aisle, this time setting my sight on my parents who were waiting for me mid-way. Digital cameras clicked and flashed. I was having my very own papparazi moment. Probably the only one I will ever have in this lifetime so I thought, heck, I might as well bask! Hahaha! ;P I WAS being Julia Roberts, but trying desperately not to wave to the crowd who were smiling and waving at me. OK, OK, so the only ones actually waving were my lolos and lolas who were probably Relieved (yes, with a capital R) to finally see me walking down the aisle. "Funny," I thought, "that Ima is waving at me the same way she probably used to wave at me when I was still a baby strapped to my stroller." Hahaha. ;P As I walked down the red carpet, I could hear side-comments, "Ang ganda ni T&T...." and thought, "So this is how an artista feels like!" Again, OK, I will admit that the ones making those comments were mostly my lolos and lolas and a smattering of my aunts who were just as Relieved (again, with a capital R!) to see me finally getting married. ;P

Caught up in my own reverie, however, I belatedly realized that I was almost halfway down the aisle. Those who know me well know that I walk quite fast. When I realized that the choir has not even sung a single word, a warning clicked in my head.

"Slow down," I mentally reprimanded myself, "Walk more slowly! Otherwise, you'd reach the altar before the choir could even sing a word of your bridal march."

"Waaaaaahhhhh!!! Onga, wait, wait.....Waaaaahhhhh!!! How?!" Not having been previously diagnosed with schizophrenic tendencies, I was actually quite amused that I was having all these conversations with....uh....myself. Hahaha. =)

"Heck, darn it. Don't panic!" I thought, as I struggled to remember all the cadence I learned in the past, "Step right. Meet left foot. Left foot forward. Lift right. Meet left foot....."

Now if you did not quite understand what it was I really wanted to do, that means you are currently just as confused as my feet were by all the conflicting instructions running through my head. Sure-fire recipe for disaster! Hahaha. ;P What happened next is, of course, as much due to the law of inertia as it was due to the confunded commands being given by my brain. Imagine it. Have you ever tried walking fast then stopping abruptly? Yes? Have you ever tried doing it while wearing 3-inch heels and a gigantic gown? Hahaha. Patay! =)

I struggled to reach my parents without toppling over, but found myself veering to the extreme right. I tried to correct myself, but only ended up veering to the extreme left. Going for one final attempt to get things right, I only ended up teetering dangerously before finally managing to stop. I looked up to see the smiles on the faces of Alex, Aby, Carol and the rest of my DMPI friends replaced with utter confusion and looks of mild concern. I thought it comical. Before I could stop myself, I candidly and quite irreverently blurted out, "Hehehe. Ba't para akong laseng?"

They all guffawed. I burst out laughing along with them. And so it came to pass that instead of smiling demurely and walking down the aisle teary-eyed like any typical bride, I giggled myself silly all the way to the altar. Santa Barbara! Hay... =)

I took my parent's arms, one on each side. As it was in life, they journeyed alone first until I came along. I was actually surprised that my dad was beaming. I did not expect him to be sour-faced (as my lolo had been when he gave my mom away), but I had expected his mood to be a bit more sober. He was, after all, giving away his "unofficial favorite", and for the first time, he would have to relinquish the role of being the most important man in my life--to someone he barely knows. I suppose in the past few months (or was it just weeks?) leading up to the wedding, he has come to terms with this new reality in my life. I don't know exactly when the turning point was, but I remember that my mom, my sister and I used to sit around amused at what we termed as a "power struggle" between Then-Boyfriend-Sweet-Pa-Lang and Father. Whenever he would ask for permission to take me to Boac (especially during long weekends), my dad would always say no, giving one excuse after another. All completely valid reasons, mind you. Not uncharacteristic of any dad, you might think. Probably, except that I have been all over the Philippines and some parts of Asia, Europe and North America--sometimes alone, more often with friends--and not once did my dad raise a peep! Oh, and did I mention that I have been living independently away from home for three whole years before Then-Boyfriend-Sweet entered my life? And yet, everytime he asked, Father would say no. (For the record, he said yes once. It took me by surprise until I found out he was going to be in Bacolod and would therefore not be home even if I went back home to Paranaque for my usual weekend visit. Hahaha.) I suppose everything can be blamed on a father's intuition. I suppose it's his way of hanging on to his baby for as long as he can because it has probably dawned on him that this one--finally--may actually be The One.

Still trying unsuccessfully to control my giggling, I walked down the rest of the aisle with my parents, nodding occasionally to acknowledge lolos, lolas, titos and titas who, for some strange reason, were calling out my name. I was thoroughly amused by it all, but would not deny that I was actually enjoying being the center of everything. I realize now that I sound like a nincompoop, making it appear that I only felt like some kind of superstar while walking down the aisle. There is, of course, another reason for me giggling uncontrollably and flashing a smile that was way TOO big. It is this: that walking down that aisle made me feel extremely blessed to have all these important people in my life gathered in one place, with every single one of them expressing extreme love and joy for me, be it through waving or crying or calling out my name. I am not the type to cry tears of joy. When I'm happy, I flash a smile big enough to light the Ayala Center during Christmas. I LAUGH. Otherwise, I would implode. =)

Before I reached the altar, I looked to the left and saw my sister crying. She wasn't teary eyed. She was CRYING, albeit alternately smiling and laughing through her tears. I laughed and smiled back at her. After more than 30+ years of being each other's unofficial best friend, we understood what that moment meant--both to me who seemed to have finally reached the end of a particular journey, and to her who saw me through everything.

As we neared the altar, Hubby S walked down to meet us. He took my dad's hands and put it to his forehead as he bowed. He took my mom's hands next and did the same thing. So like him. When I first introduced him to my parents, he almost gave my dad a heart attack. Being used to all the guy friends I have brought home over the years, my dad extended his hand, expecting it to be taken in a firm handshake. Instead, Hubby S bowed down and "made mano". Taken aback with surprise, that lone gesture left my dad with a puzzled look, and me doubled up in laughter. I think that was also the first time my mom decided she liked him.

As it was in life, my parents journeyed with Pusjing, Ige and me until it was time for us to move on to our own lifelong adventures. Finally, it was time to let me go. I hugged my mom first, then my dad. It was probably the tightest hug I had ever received from them. It was probably the tightest hug I ever gave. The hug, especially from my dad, seemed to take forever.

"Take care of her," he murmured as he gave Hubby S my hand.

As my parents stepped aside, Hubby S and I walked the last few steps to the altar, and together took our place before God and the ones we hold most dear.

There was no turning back now.

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TO BE CONTINUED.....