My father used to say that he didn’t want to grow old.  He said he was afraid his kids would make fun of him when he grew old.  He used to say that I would probably hold him by the hand and tell him to jump and he’d jump because he’d be so old, he wouldn’t know if I were just making fun of him.  I used to think that this story was about me, how mean I would be to him, how vengeful he thought I would be that I would actually try to get back at him by making fun of him when he got old.  I had no idea that it was about him.  He really was afraid of growing old.

Well, he has nothing to fear now that he is old.  He grew old without him noticing it.  Old age kind of crept up on him and here he is 74 years old. No one has made fun of him for being old.  No one has tried to get back at him.  His fear is understandable, I guess.  He is a prankster himself and he is the one who makes fun of people.  He likes to tease people (some he teases mercilessly in public).  No wonder he is so afraid of growing old and being made fun of.  He’s afraid of eating what he has been dishing out all these years.

On January 17, 2013, as I was on a walking tour of Zoobic Safari, my phone rang.  It was my Dad.  He told me to go to San Fernando to check if a warrant of arrest had already been issued against his client.  I asked him if he knew where I was at that instant and when I told him I was at Subic, he said, “Good, Subic is not that far away from San Fernando.”  It was so ridiculous, I had to laugh.  I was in the mountains. I was on a tour with 36 kids and their parents.  I’m in charge, how can I just up and leave?

Undaunted, a few days later, he called me again.  This time, he asked me to ask my husband to send his office messenger to check about the same warrant of arrest.  I told him I can’t as my husband and I were both on our way to the doctor in Binondo (the Chinese doctor was his doctor a while back, as well).  Suddenly, he changed his tone.  He said, “Mahirap tumanda, anak.  I was meditating last night.  I suddenly praised and thanked God that it was your mom who got sick and not me. Kasi, if I had gotten sick instead of your mom, your mother would have had suffered such financial hardships.  At least ako, I can still earn even when I am already 74.  So I thanked God for that.”

I was speechless.  So he continued: “I also thanked God.  If your mother had not gotten sick, I don’t think I would have learned patience.  Your mother is teaching me patience.  God is using this sickness of hers to teach me patience.”  He sighed and he said good-bye.  So this is how it feels to grow old: you watch your parents grow old, too.

There’s kind of a role reversal.  I used to rely on my Dad to tell me what life should be, to tell me how life should be viewed.  Now, it is my Dad who confers with me.  There are a few times when I am lecturing, I see him at the back and he is listening to me.

When my Dad said he was leaving for the States, I began to worry about his medication and his diet.  I began to worry about his clothes (he’ll need a heavier coat, thicker socks and thermal underwear since he’s not used to the cold).  I had to tell myself to stop feeling so maternal over my 74 year old father.  He can take care of himself.  He has taken care of himself all his life.  He is a survivor.  He will probably outlive me.

On Wednesday last week, he called me.  He told me he was on his way to San Fernando to see if a warrant had been issued against his client (it was the same client, the same warrant of arrest).  He said he was stopping by to see my husband at the office.  He wanted to confirm if my husband would be at the office that day.  I said yes.  But then, my husband has stress-related gastric reactions so I thought it best if I shielded him from my Dad that day.

I went with my husband to San Fernando.  At lunch time, I called my Dad and asked him where he was.  He was at the McDonald’s at the junction of the Gapan-Olongapo Road.  I was having lunch at the Pizza Hut (Garden salad and Aglio-Oglio, of course!).  I told him to wait for me. I went to McDonald’s to see him.

When I got there, he asked me to buy him ice cream.  I saw the box where the Big Mac had been wrapped in.  I saw the large fries and the coke. I suddenly worried about his cholesterol and his sugar.  I said nothing except, “Mabuti naman at nagsasanay ka nang kumain ng McDonald’s. Malamang pag punta mo sa States, madalas kang kakain sa McDonald’s.  Hindi mo naman iniintindi ang cholesterol at sugar mo, ano?”  He just looked at me and shoved a French fry in his mouth.

His client, a pastor asked me, “Bakit po, may diabetes ba si Pastor?”

I answered, “Hindi naman siya nagpapa-tingin so wala pa siyang diabetes sa pagkaka-alam niya.”

My Dad pulled out his wallet and was about to get a few bills to give me to buy him ice cream.  I shook my head, the ice cream will be on me.  “Alin ba ang gusto mo, Dad?  Yung nasa cone, yung nasa cup, ano?”

“Gusto ko yung may itim-itim.” He wanted a McFlurry so I bought him one.

I suddenly remembered when I was three or four, I used to ask him to buy me a Magnolia Drumstick from Fernando’s and he bought me a Magnolia Drumstick even if it cost so much: P4.00!  Talk about role reversal!  I felt like the parent and he was my malambing but spoiled little boy asking me for ice cream.

He volunteered to drop me off at my husband’s office.  I said, no, since my husband won’t be finished with his work just yet.  I said I’d go with him because I didn’t know where the San Fernando RTC was.  So there I was, going to court with my Dad and his client.  Not much had changed.

My Dad used to bring me to court with him all the time.  When I was a little girl, my mother would dress me in my Sunday best and told me to behave because I was going to court.  My Dad was a lawyer and I had to behave well because I was a lawyer’s daughter.  I sat on those hard wooden benches, waiting for my Dad to speak before the judge.  I listened with rapt attention all that time that court proceedings were going on.

After his appearance, my Dad would bring me behind the courthouse (the Kapitolyo in Pasig).  There was a lugawan there and we’d eat lugaw before going back home.  I got to drink Pepsi (it was a treat my mother would never let me have if I had stayed in the house).  I reminded Dad that Mom would get angry if I drank Pepsi.  Dad said, “What your Momma doesn’t know won’t make her angry.” So I drank my Pepsi guilt-free.

On the ride home (sometimes we rode in a cab—when his client paid him his appearance fee; sometimes we took the jeep when his client didn’t pay him), he’d ask me questions about the proceedings.  He told me all the names of the court personnel: the stenographer, the interpreter, the judge, the prosecutor, the public defender, etc.  Then he’d ask me questions about what happened, what I understood.  He’d quiz me to see if I was paying attention.

I didn’t know if I ever answered any of his questions right, I just saw the look of pleasure on my Dad’s face and I knew I must have said something good.  He never told me that I was smart.  He just gave me this smile of approval and that was all that was necessary.  When people asked me if I’m smart, I’d shrug and say that I didn’t know.  I grew up thinking I wasn’t very smart (I wasn’t on the Honor Roll and I never understood Math, I just concluded I wasn’t very smart.)  My father never told me I was smart. But he always had this look of pleasure when we talked so I must have said some good things that made sense.

When people asked me questions and I answered, people always exclaimed, “What a bright girl.” I asked my mother what that meant.  My mother said “Malaki kasi ang mga mata mo, parang headlight, naka-bright.”  So that is why when people asked me if I were going to be a lawyer just like my Dad when I grew up, I’d just smile and look away.  I kept thinking to myself that I probably wasn’t smart enough to be a lawyer, much less, be a lawyer like my Dad.

Well, I grew up and I learned that I can be smart sometimes, smart and sassy. But I still didn’t think I could ever tangle with my Dad.  Well, I did that, too. I was soon at loggerheads with my Dad over many things.  When I became a lawyer, my Dad was proud of me, but he was also wary of me.  He always referred to me as “taga UP ka kasi!”  And this was not a compliment.  When my brothers also went to UP Law, we would often discuss things and then, when we siblings managed to get on one side of the argument, and my Dad would be all by himself on the other side, he’d say, “Magsama-sama kayong mga taga-UP, ang yayabang ninyo.”  He’s from the FEU Institute of Law.

That is how it feels to grow old, I guess. You’d see your children look at you with a kind of awe; you’d see their expectant faces turned up to look at you for assurance.  Then, one day, you, the parent would be looking at your children with a kind of awe.  You’d be turning your face up to them, looking for assurance.  The tables are turned.  You’re still the parent but your children have grown.  They are the strong ones now.

Last Sunday, I saw my Dad preach again.  I haven’t seen him preach in a long time. My son said, “Is it just me or is Lolo a little slower now?”  I couldn’t answer, so my son answered his own question. “He is 74, after all. He should slow down.”  That is how it feels to grow old.

One day, I too will grow old. I don’t wish long life for myself or good health, riches, fame or influence.  I only ask that like David who served his generation, and like my father before me, I be given the privilege to serve my generation as they served theirs (Acts 16: 36).

There is no need to fear old age for the faithful and loving God of our youth is still the same faithful and loving God of our middle age and our old age. God promised, “And even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.”  (Isaiah 46:4)

I realize now why I was allowed to see my father grow old. He is to show me how to grow old with the grace of God, with hope and with peace. Old age is proof that God is faithful. Godspeed, Dad.