The Golden Years

For some, it is very difficult having reached the age past one’s so-called youthful stage, although it doesn’t necessarily restrict the fact that old age is also a period of completion and fulfillment. Everyone is headed towards the same direction, where growing out a gray hair is just part of the process, the receding memory becomes more understandable much less amusing, and the circle closes in as we become children back again. The signs of aging are never unalarming as the children of their parents supposedly welcome a more considerate, thoughtful approach towards them, and, more often, have to yield to their own wishes.

I find it funny that I to have to write something about old age as an introduction. My mother just celebrated her 50th birthday a week ago, and my father his 51st last July. Ironically, I don’t want to tag them as an old, aged pair that has brought me to life. You can call me in denial all you want, because they are still young as I wish them as they are. I just love forgetting their age perhaps, and both of them still remain active in their endeavors, and still they can sing their favorite karaoke tunes. My mother loves The Carpenters, and my father just can sing anything including the contemporary, which makes us all children laugh out loud, not to our surprise, as he belts out the songs of our generation. He always tries hard to be on a par with us children, in a good way, especially now that he does email.

I just love the sight of them grow together. Their love story inspires their children even more. How many high school sweethearts ended up as husband and wife?

I am blessed to have not once seen them get into a real fight or throw a piece out of an argument, or a disagreement. They still manage to wave the white flag after talking it through.

True, they are imperfect beings, but their child is here thankful for everything. He will tell their story forever until his memory fails him.

Image: Cebu City, Philippines