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My Lolo is a great man. He was an officer during World War II, survived the Death March, sent 9 children to school and was the head honcho engineer of the Balara Water Works. I am very proud of him. Having his family name is like being given a shining gold medal that you wear around your neck the whole time. This is the reason I insisted on hyphenating my husband's last name. I am proud to be a Berroya.
Last March 9, 2007, all of my Father's siblings came home to celebrate a grand, momentous event. Lolo turned 100 years old! For someone who still has a sharp mind, can do algebra and multiply double figures mentally - he sure is one hell of a centenarian!
Bill was able to come home at the nick of time. He arrived on the morning of the 9th. I had to look for his wedding barong which, thank God, still fits him. He looked really nice.
Let's just say that the party was a huge success! Well, every Berroya party is always fun because being wall flowers was never in our gene pool. The band had to keep up with every uncle or cousin who wanted to sing on stage.
I wonder what the color motiff would be next year? Please, don't let it be butter yellow. Ewww....
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