To be honest, it still feels weird to see my name written on the wedding invitation. My wedding invitation, our wedding invitation.
Seven days to our wedding date, and we have been through the most tough weeks of the preparation. Last weekend wasn’t feels like weekend, as we so busy driving to test food, looking for parents’ dress, discussing make up for the bride, talking with the photographers, and watching our friends who will sing for us. Just to make sure that they won’t hurt anyone’s ear
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New Year was spent with finalizing the book for the holy matrimony, reviewing invitation list, printing labels, putting invitation in the envelope, and sticking the label. A little celebration in the middle of hectic chores, as we celebrate the passing year with a bottle of Champagne, and boxes of Royce.
One thought last week, that I think we have been cruel to our parents. We got a lot of helps from our friend, either voluntary or due to our request. But we never allowed our parents to contribute, to help in our big day.
We are grateful for what they’ve done for us. Taking care of us for 30 years was never easy. All we want is for them to give their blessings as we said our vows in front of the altar, with tears of happiness in their cheeks. But well, parents is forever parents, and no matter how old we are, we’re still kids for them.
Seven days to our wedding, we wish that we have through the lows, so that the days ahead would always better until the date came. After that, when all the guess have gone home, there will be only the 2 of us….

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