There’s a saying that youth is wasted on the young. Increasingly these days, old age is wasted on the old. As we buy in more and more to the image of beauty and youth and virility that Hollywood and the glossy magazines peddle, we feel the need to be blond (or some shade of it, just not black or dark, which is the hair color most of us in this part of the planet are born with), wrinkle-free, taut-skinned, thin, with substantial breasts/washboard abs. So we – stereotypically women, but increasingly men too – whiten and tighten, collagen and botox, laser and abrade and now stem cell our way to what we hope the rest of the world will consider youthful, beautiful/handsome, attractive. Indeed, with advances in medical and cosmetic science, youth is no longer to be found in a fountain but in your friendly neighborhood clinic.
I am not advocating total abandon – taking care of one’s self, eating right and well, keeping fit, are what any self-respecting person should do. But to go to any length, to chase after that perception of youth at all cost, is another matter.
Take something as simple as being called lola or lolo, ahma or angkong or even tita or auntie. I know a woman who bristles at anyone over 18 calling her auntie. Of course, she has her grandson using some euphemism to address her – momsie, mamita, mama – anything that would not hint at her being two generations above the child.
Asian cultures give more respect to age – at least they used to. I recall when my nephew was born, my aunt congratulated me for my “promotion†– being raised one level higher to the rank of aunt. And parents glory at having spawned a third generation when they become angkong and ahma, lolo and lola.
My father was the youngest of six sons and the age gap between him and First Uncle was significant, so I have nephews and nieces as old as or even older than me. Thus I have a whole hoard of apos – grandchildren of my cousins – one of whom has given me an apo sa tuhod. How cool is that? My favorite apo Andy used to call me Lola Duck, because we’d have Peking duck every time we’d go out to dinner together. Now he and his brother Kevin are a full head taller than me, and it is such a gas to be lola to these handsome boys.
Of course, advancing age has its drawbacks – the knees hurt, the teeth aren’t all yours, the font in your cell phone is so large the screen can only display two or three lines at a time. Conversation is often about how to cure aches and pains.
But old age certainly has its perks – foremost of which is that better-than-platinum card, the senior citizen’s card. I can’t understand people who refuse to use it because they don’t want people to know they’re seniors. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my dual citizenship – Filipino and senior. Call me kuripot but that 20 percent discount trumps whatever imaginary insult having a senior card may carry.
For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love. By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth. He gathers the waters of the sea into jars; he puts the deep into storehouses. Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the people of the world revere him. For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm. Psalm 33:4-9