Happy 25th Anniversary, Momma & Papa I.! (Sorry, I'm a day late.)
March 10, 1984.
I remember those pictures well.
Snapshot one: Mom's blushing moon-shaped face emerging from the black Lincoln bridal pick-up car, her petite frame swathed in layers of white tulle and lace. In fact, she is wearing long sleeves because it's still in the heart of winter, 30-something degrees with snowy flakes falling all around.
Snapshot two: Family portrait at the church. Dad's summoning up the most un-Chandler smile ever (a first). Grandma's got her purple cat-eyed glasses on, looking smart. The bridal train spreads out over the steps. The groomsmen stand in height order, the bridesmaids clutching their small bouquets.
Snapshot three: Cake-feeding time. Dad goofily picks a huge slice and Mom has difficulty getting it in her mouth. A wad of white frosting smudges her rose lipstick. She is still beautiful.
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