this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on October 4, 2001.
The most memorable experience I had when I joined the YFC Youth Camp last summer was my encounter with the priest who gave us confession. I was second in line, and I was surprised when my best friend who went first came back less than a minute later. Not that it usually takes her forever to confess, but it was certainly very unusual for her to finish in such a short span of time.
Still wondering what happened, I went inside the room where the priest was, and the moment I sat down right beside him, I wondered no more. “Father, I think I just forgot my sins” was the first thing I wanted to say when I began my confession.
He was an old priest–so old in fact that (please forgive me for saying this) my first impression was that he had risen from six feet underground just to hear our confession. I felt really weird sitting there, and I felt even weirder when he started talking.
“O, huwag mo ilayo ‘yung upuan! Kaya nga inilapit para marinig eh!” he ordered. I thought he was going to strangle me and I apologized right away.
As soon as I moved closer to him, he asked me. “Kelan ka huling nangumpisal?”
“Last year po, Father,” I answered.
“Ano? Lakasan mo’t di kita marinig!”
“Last year po, Father!” I practically screamed in his ear.
“O, ano ‘yung mga kasalanan mo?”
I confessed my sins, which was about half of what I had prepared to say since it was all I could remember.
“‘Yun lang?” he asked. And when I said yes, he murmured the “Act of Contrition,” absolved me of my sins, gave me my penance and then said, “God bless.”
When I went out of the room, I felt more stunned than blessed. I had finished my confession in what seemed like 30 seconds. Amazing.
I felt bad about how my confession went, but kept my feelings to myself. But as the queue outside the room got longer, I could hear some people who had finished their confession complaining about the priest. They stopped when one of the YFC leaders told them to just go and keep their thoughts to themselves. It made me feel better.
The next day, our folks came to watch our formal admission as YFC members. Mass was said, then we joined our parents for a kind of “bonding session.”
When we were done, I went to greet the folks of my two best friends. One of my friends had her grandmother with her, and when the grandmother saw me she gave me this really big, tight and long hug. She looked really happy to see me, and she hugged me several times after that. I felt warm inside.
Although we met only once, two years earlier when my best friend invited me to a sleepover at her grandparents’ house, and spent just a few hours together (she taught me how to play mahjong!), I felt really close to her then. It was as if she was my grandmother, too.
After that, we talked for a while. We just said a few words, and she was squeezing my hand and smiling at me all the time. She had to leave with my best friend’s mom, and before she left, she squeezed my hand one last time and then we kissed each other on the cheek and said goodbye.
There was something different in the way she did those things. They made me feel very warm, and it was like she was able to feel right through me and touch the very center of my heart.
This is how I’ve always viewed old people: scary old, lovable old, weak old, ridiculous old, makulit old. I have always imagined them being assisted by someone as they walked around if they were not simply resting at home. I thought that they always nagged you to do this and do that or not to do this and not to do that and that they never failed to remind you how things were done during their time. They nagged you about how you dressed, how you acted, how you spoke, etc. etc. They nagged you about almost everything. I always thought that they had to be handled with care because they were too weak to do many things on their own.
Even so, no matter how scary or weak or irritating they can get, there is always a part of us that loves them and that will be touched by them. Lola Remedios showed us that.
Lola Remedios is from the Community of Services for the Elderly (COSE). Accompanied by Ate Jenny, she came to our school last June 25 to speak to us about their plight. Because of her, my earlier perceptions about the elderly (except for the lovable part) were turned upside down.
The elderly do not want to be considered as weak. They do not want to be pitied. In fact, they like to be responsible and do things on their own. Many of them still do household chores, go to market and do other things which prove that they are not dependent on others. Some of them are still working even up to now, like that priest. Others take care of the kids while their parents work and take care of the home.
But sometimes, even if they show that they still lived useful lives, we can’t help but take them for granted. We don’t pay them enough attention and give them enough respect. They have always showered us with love and affection, and now that they’ve grown old and don’t have a really long time to live, we often forget to show them our appreciation, our concern and our love for them.
We should bring ourselves closer to them instead of being distant, because sooner or later we will regret our failure to give them the tender loving care they deserve. Although there are institutions that care for the elderly, it is always better if we show them that they are important to us.
My grandparents are still alive, and I feel very lucky that they are. The only problem is, I have some difficulty in showing all that love, appreciation and concern. I used to think that going to my grandparents’ house was a hassle (especially the one on my mom’s side) because they usually nagged me about everything, but I have since realized that the nagging was one their ways of showing that they loved me very much (sounds weird, huh?). They were the ones who took care of me most of the time when I was a baby, and now that I’m 16, it’s my turn to take care of them.
I have decided to start with my own grandmother (from my mom’s side) because she was my “mom” while my real mom was away working in the office. I’ve decided to visit her every weekend, chat with her and join her whenever she’s having snacks (because I usually don’t when she asks me to). The same goes with my grandfather. It doesn’t matter if I have a lot of things to do, I’ll still spend time with them-even just an hour. I’ve also decided that when the time comes that they can’t do things by themselves anymore, I’d offer to take care of them. And of course I’ll always give them the one basic thing we should give all of the elderly: respect.
Other than my grandparents, I’ll try to help the elderly in every way I can: by offering them my seat in church (we sometimes bring our own chairs since it’s very crowded), letting them go ahead during communion and volunteering my services in a home for the aged starting this year. I haven’t decided where but this is my goal for this year.
One day, I’ll grow old too, and I will be where they are now. Then I, too, would want to be shown some love, affection and respect by every young boy and girl that I meet.
