Life has become quite complicated.

        Last Sunday, after Meralco turned off power in our neighbourhood to fix a transformer, my dear roommate and I were desperately forced to seek cooler climes – we did not have TV to while the time away nor electric fans to move around the 36.4 degree C humid air. We drove to the nearest mall to watch the real-life movie, Heaven is for Real.

        By the time we got a call from home that power has been restored, we were already around P2,000 poorer. On the way home, we passed by an informal settler colony where many half naked people were still milling around oven hot shanties. It gave me an idea of how they fared during the brownout or where they lived. This must be the reason why some children drown in the polluted waters near the bay or nearby waterholes.

        I woke up the following morning refreshed in my self-designed home theatre. Beside me was a remote control gizmo that I am learning to manipulate to allow me to do many things including talking to my daughter in far-away Seattle via the TV monitor. My tablet and desktop are also within my reach. I can smell coffee and toast from the kitchen. This is the life, I thought. My reverie was cut short after I was shown the latest Meralco bill. I quickly turned off the air-conditioner.

        I also now discover that, like many other senior citizens, I have acquired allergies that will allow me to find peace and comfort only via nasal and throat sprays. I also have developed low back pain that is driving me to the Acupunturist. I wonder what other ailments and discomforts are linked to the aging process and what are reversible. I can ask my daughter if and when I can catch her attention. She is a nurse in a federal hospital slaving for dear Uncle Sam 14 hours a day.

        I picked up the newspaper, only to be greeted by a screaming headline about a highly placed government official, who seemed to find solace in the claim that he was being singled out from among so many. Like an unremorseful child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he seemed to say: “Bakit kami lang, sila din – kayo din”.  There is now queuing seeking immunity offered to state witnesses.

        Hurray! At the very least a lot of dirt is being stirred from long-hidden crevices hoping for the chance to finally see the light of day. I hope I can live long enough to see a number of ex-lawmakers populating the the Muntinglupa penitentiary – and not in a hospital, a resort or a military camp.

        A welcome headline announced that US President Obama has vowed to help us in our territorial dispute with our powerful neighbor. Another good news is the announcement that The United Nations has acknowledged that the 13-million hectare potentially resource-rich Benham Rise on the Pacific Ocean side of Luzon is exclusively Philippine territory.

        I still have to open an email from a friend entitled “Running out of Time” with a video explaining what is the possible cause of climate change. I sense this email will divert me from my comfort zone. So, before I open the mail . . . 

        Let me thank the Lord. Heaven must really be for real.

        For the last 60 or so years, I have been always gentlemanly. In my recent sojourns to the malls and public places, I was practically being pushed to walk ahead of my lady companions in walkways, escalators and elevators – to make me realize that I have become a weak senior citizen. I was also being offered the use of a walking stick! I look at the mirror and I understand.

        The changing of the guard has started. I am no longer in command physically, emotionally psychologically and perhaps, even economically.

        The 3 ladies that I have allowed to bully me around are my wife and my 2 daughters. I refuse to be pushed around by anyone else. Especially pushy is my 11-year old grandson, who does the easy route of getting his way by giving me a bear hug, which he learned from his jujitsu lessons.

        I have seen too many dear people leave this world, too soon; before ​ they even understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

        Only my dear roommate cares if I choose to watch TV, read or play on the computer​ until 4 AM, or sleep until noon the next day.  With the accompaniment of youtube, I sing to the nostalgic tunes of the 50s, 60s & 70s and undying songs of the original Ateneo Glee Club..

        I know I have become forgetful. But then again, some sad episodes of my life are just as well forgotten.  And those worth remembering, I eventually remember, especially with the help of my friend Google.

        Sure, over the years, I have known deep heartbreak. But broken hearts are ​ what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart ​never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being human.

        I am so blessed to have lived long enough to allow my head to go bald, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep ​ furrows on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died ​ before their hair could turn silver.

        As one gets older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore.  I even ​ think I've earned the right to be wrong.

        I like being old because age has set me free. I ​like the unobtrusive person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but ​ while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have ​ been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall dance and run every time I feel like it – until, of course, I feel the huffing and puffing and the weakness in my legs.