The first wedding I’ve ever witnessed was that of my kuya, which was almost a decade ago already. Fast forward to today, I’ve been married for almost two years. Mika and I are expecting our baby this March, so fortunately, we were still able to go to the weddings of my friends these past few days (yep, two weddings in one weekend). Buti naisingit pa bago manganak!
There’s something different about witnessing my friends (who feel like my brothers, too) get married. Against the backdrop of the then high school teenage angst and heartbreaks, weddings can feel like sweet endings and exciting new beginnings. Witnessing my blood relatives get married feels like being part of a growing family; witnessing friends get married feels like having adulting partners while letting go of our childish selves. It’s a bittersweet but timely goodbye to our innocence. No regrets, only fond memories and excitement toward a grown-up future.
There’s something fulfilling and comforting in knowing that my friends would end up with amazing partners in life. It’s like having the assurance that your friends-turned-brothers are in good hands.
And as each other’s wingmen, we have done the job, and we can gracefully retire that part of our barkada alter-ego! Haha!
Mark 3:31-35. “Who are my mother (and father) and my brothers (and my sisters)?”
[DAILY GOSPEL INSIGHTS AND REFLECTION FOR MANAGEMENT AND ORGANIZATION 2023-024: JANUARY 24, 2023]
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