On April 2^nd, bright and early, we headed to the Meycauayan City Hall in search of the Office of Senior Citizen Affairs.  When we got there, it was deserted and a guard told us that it was a holiday – Francisco Balagtas Day.  We had to come back the next day if we wanted to transact business. My husband wanted to apply for a senior citizen’s card the day he turned 60.

It’s silly, but I actually felt it was like a rite of passage, like getting a student driver’s permit at age 16 and a non-professional driver’s license at 18.  It’s like registering to vote for the first time.  Getting a senior citizen card was a rite of passage. It was exciting for us so it was really frustrating to have gone all the way to the city hall just to find that it was a holiday in Bulacan.

The next day, we went there and the staff was friendly.  They were accommodating. They only asked us for a photocopy of my husband’s certificate of live birth, a valid I.D. and a barangay clearance.  We came prepared with the birth certificate and the valid ID, but we didn’t have a barangay clearance.  They processed us just the same and told us to bring the barangay clearance when we claimed the ID and the booklets.  It was that easy.  Maybe it helped that our car was parked right in front of the door and the plate number of the car was visible for all to see (my husband has protocol plates from work).  My husband was also wearing his barong tagalog, so we were probably given preferential treatment.  Maybe it’s just because he had just turned 60 and he seemed excited to be 60.  I was excited for him. I didn’t think he’d reach 60 either. So I was just glad he’s still alive and happy to be with me as I am to be with him.

I understand that most people deplore the fact that they are getting older, not my husband.  He is thrilled to be 60 because he didn’t think he’d make it to 60. On the morning of his birthday, he said, his parents didn’t think he’d live past the age of 2 when he got sick with polio.  They didn’t think he’d be able to walk at all, but he did. They didn’t think he’d make it through school, but he did (with flying colors!– valedictorian in elementary school and valedictorian in high school).  He made it to the Ateneo de Manila and then to the UP College of Law. He said he didn’t think he’d get married, but he did.  He didn’t think he’d have kids, but he did.  And now, he’s 60.  He says his mind doesn’t feel old, just his body.

We’re counting milestones.  My husband’s father died at 61.  So, if Lanly passes 61, he will think himself lucky.  His grandfather died at age 67, so if he passes 67, he’ll think himself luckier.  His mom died at 72 so if reaches 72, he will feel himself extremely lucky. I suppose, it is how you look at it.  If you mourn your lost youth, then turning 60 will be a pain.  But if you are thankful for each passing day and you are looking forward to each new day, then turning 60 is a good thing. It’s a blessing to have survived 60 years and we were so thankful.

At the office, someone greeted him.  When my husband said that he turned 60, his office mate said that he turned 61 a few months back.  My husband said that he already applied for his senior citizen’s ID and his office mate said, “In denial pa ako, hindi pa ako kumukuha ng senior citizen’s ID.”  They both laughed.

A few days later, I went to the barangay and got his clearance.  The next day, we went to claim his senior citizen’s ID. Today, his cell phone alarm went off.  We both wondered what that was all about.  On the screen, it said, “Buena’s birthday”.  He remembered his friend from Land Bank, Atty. Buenaflor Martinez.  April 9th is her birthday. They started working for the Legal Department of the Land Bank within days of each other.  When Buena applied for a GSIS loan to purchase a house in Sto. Nino  she encouraged my husband to also apply for a loan.  Their loans were both approved.  We live four blocks from Buena.  I never got to meet her, though.  She died in 1995, just a few months after Lanly and I got married.

So today, after lunch, I saw my husband and he looked pensive. ‘What’s up?’  I asked him.  It took him a while to answer.  ‘The only think I don’t like about growing old,’ he said, ‘is that I miss my friends who’ve passed on. ‘  I nodded in agreement (I’m not 60 but I do have friends who have passed on and I miss them).  Happy birthday, Buena, you are sorely missed. I miss Buena even if I never met her. I wish I’d met her. The only thing I know about her is that once, at the office, when people started teasing my husband about growing old a bachelor, Buena, the ever loyal friend, said, “Huwag kayo, taga-UP ang girlfriend ni Lanly.”  Not long after that, Lanly and I began having lunch regularly.  I wish I’d met her. Now, I was pensive, too.

David, King of Israel, said, “Teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”  I’ve always wondered what “numbering our days” meant. Did it mean that we are to count each day as it passes?  Does it mean to treat each day as though it were our last?  Does it mean that we are to always consider what we do seeing that we only have a finite set of days allotted to us? I had to look at the context of the verse to find the meaning.

Psalm 90 begins with David’s reflection on God’s faithfulness toward all of Israel’s generations (meaning, from Abraham down to David’s time).  He extols the eternality of God.  Compared with God who does not age, a human lifetime is just a moment.  David laments the mistakes he has made in the past and how the mistakes he has made in his life make him feel that he had wasted his years.  He thanks God for his 70 years of life, and he is hoping to reach 80, to make up for the wasted years.  But then, on second thought, he realizes that the increased number of years means an increase in labor and sorrow as well.  So, David sets aside his longing to live longer and asks instead to be given wisdom seeing that he cannot bargain with God to extend his years, as his days are already ‘numbered’ by God.

David’s prayer in the end of Psalm 90 is so wise: “Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil.  Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us; and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.”

In everyday English, David is really saying, “Give us wisdom to be content, to be glad even if our days seem like an affliction, because we’ve seen evil.  Help us to see you working in our lives, be it short or long.  Help us to see your glory in our everyday life.  Help us to see your beauty, Lord.  And be the one to take care of everything that we might leave undone or half-done.”

Teach us, Lord.  We cannot expect everyday to be fine and dandy.  Into each life, some rain must fall. Help us learn to be joyful through the sorrow, to see your beauty through the pain, to see your faithfulness and your glory through the suffering, and to trust that your faithfulness will see us through.  Teach us, indeed, oh, Lord not to mark each accomplishment and each success, careful to evaluate our lives for greatness; but rather, teach us instead,  to evaluate your greatness in our lives.  Teach us, oh, Lord.