MY FRIEND Rosse G. asked me why I have not yet spoken about being an elderly person.
She was seated across me in our favorite cafe. She had cappuccino while I had Irish. I told her: “Because it would be indulgent. It’s like talking about why I’m beautiful (just kidding) or why I’m such an interesting second-rate, trying hard, copycat columnist.”
“Please, what makes being old good?”
“Fare discounts.”
“I envy you. We juniors pay the minimum fare of P8. I heard you get five percent off on food and groceries.”
“I save a few cents. We get discounts for stuff such as powdered detergent, laundry bar and cooking oil. But we have no discounts on bath soap, shampoo and cologne. I always say we old folks don’t deserve to smell like Brad Pitt. We use laundry bar to bathe and cooking oil to moisten our dry skin.”
“Oh, that’s sadly funny or maybe funnily sad. How do you cope with that?”
“I drown my sorrows in shawarma and strawberry shake with the money I save.”
“Good girl. How is it being old?
“Except for creaky bones and inadequate SSS pension, it’s just like being young. Or at least I still do what some juniors like you do. I browse You Tube. Play mobile games. Go where my legs will take me. Eat what I want against doctor’s orders. You young people do that, right?”
“Yes, we rightly do that. But why have you kept your hair snow white?”
“Autonomy. When I was 18 years old, I decided that I will keep my hair white. I will not allow society to dictate how I want to act, look and think. But most of all because it’s cheaper not having to worry about ‘skunk strip’ on my head when the new growth shows the white roots and having my hair dyed again.”
“Don’t talk so fast. I’m taking down notes the old way. Is it fun being old?”
“I’d say it has a joyful facet. I feel I’m a beauty queen because of how I look now. I get remembered easily. I was in PLDT last Thursday. The young man behind the desk said I was in that office a few months back. It was he who also handled my case. ‘I remember you because you said your Internet connection was down and couldn’t play (“Farmville Tropic 2: Escape.”) You’re the only elderly person I know so far who plays mobile games.’ We both laughed.”
“Oh what fun.”
“Your sarcasm is not lost on me.”
“But you’re my idol. Do old people look up to someone, too?”
“My idol is my aunt Isabel. She lives in Marikina.”
“How old is she?”
“One year short of 100. In a nutshell, she’s a woman of strength, spirituality, wisdom, sense of humor and sympathy. She’s abreast with the latest news. Oh, and she’s a texter too.”
“Have we been light enough?”
“I hope so. May people see that we old folks can be serious and light too.”