TO age or not to age

My father is pushing 70, and has been complaining of his declining vitality. I think he is in the period of his life, when he cannot accept yet that despite alertness of mind, his body is gradually and surely slowing down. He is in denial stage, and his mind can not cope up with his aging body. He still wants to work, and insists, should be doing more productive activities.

Not wanting to slighten the feelings of my hyper-sensitive father, I have been trying my best to explain him that, he is not sick. He may be feeling so weak and uncomfortable most of the time. But the fact is, he is just getting old.

So when I came here in Tokyo, I was surprised to see many old people everywhere. Most are probably much older than my father. But they will probably.. no… definitely, the objects of his envy.

Old people here serve in McDonald’s, work in convenience stores, build houses, climb electric posts, and many, still enjoy riding the bicycle. (Not to mention that a lot are still very active in the government and business circles). It is simply, quite a feat for those in the league of septagenarians, octogenarians, or even older.

The ojisans and obasans I meet here in Tokyo are probably even much stronger than me. Inside the trains, they are not the ones to rush to get seats. I do, but not in the priority seats.

Back home, in the Philippines, it is quite seldom to see old people in the streets, alone, and much more, work in places, supposedly exclusive for young people. Most of the time, the old folks are in constant company of younger relatives when going outside, or just taking rests inside the house.

Here, I expect to see more of them everyday, and transact with them in the daily “business” of life. And most of the time, they remind me of my father.

They maybe quite a lot more “genki” than him, but just the same, I can’t help but pity them. Looking at them, I feel the burden of time, of having to live this long…their spirits trap in bodies wanting to return where they came from – dust.

At times also, the sight of them livens me up, reminding me that the prime of life maybe in youth, but it doesn’t have to go away with the passing of years. Indeed, each day, should always be the prime of every life, at any age.

Whenever I get to talk to my father, I still try to make him understand that he just have to cope with growing old. There is no choice on whether to age or not to age. That is not the question.

Slowing down has prevented him from doing much “physical” activities, like what his counterparts do here in Tokyo. But only that. For all of his other fave activities, like watching over his grandchildren, accompanying my mother, and praying, father has all the time in the world. (#)