OF DEATH, MIDDLE AGE, AND REALIZATION

 Death hangs over us. Youth may not know this. But middle age does – or should.

Our cousin, James Anton, just passed away. He survived a major stroke years before but this latest one was unforgiving. The clan just sent him off to Besao, Mt. Province where he served as an LGU official for his final resting place.

His mother, Aunty Lum-ay, went ahead less than a year before.

When relatives of the same generation as we are cross to the other side and we see them following so soon after the older generation, we are forced to take a reflective pause. The fact that earthly life is but fleeting sinks in.

We can count the members of the older generation in our Lugat clan who are still around to hold us together. They are a few and most of them are almost of the same ages as the older ones belonging to the younger generation. Manong James was among the oldest ones among us cousins. Yet, the death of someone we knew as manong or older brother hit, or should hit, too close to home.

The older generation is departing.

But so is the younger one - mine. And this is making me more aware of Death than I already am.

It is making me more aware I am middle-aged.

I had a discussion about middle age with Victor. Manong James' brother, who traveled to the Philippines for the second time in a year to bury a loved one. I think we are now more conscious than our younger selves, agreeing that the life we so far lived is longer than the years remaining for us. Words of wisdom we heard in the past truly hold meaning. When we were in the elementary grades, our teachers made us burn in our head the words, "Health is wealth." For years, I would hear that and I thought it sounded nice because of the rhyme. But what did it mean to a cat with nine lives who had no consciousness of Death?

When I got way older, I started spending a lot of money on my health issues. "Health is wealth" ceased to be a just a rhyme. It became a rhyme of truth, three words with 300 nuggets of wisdom.

The nine lives are now behind every person of middle age. We are standing on a bridge where the span of the distance we left may be way longer than what we need to walk on to get to the other side. This realization is more pronounced for people like me living second lives. I had a close brush with Death but was blessed with another lease in Life and now living on borrowed time. Time is ticking and every day could be my last. I prefer to spend my time on the profound that means something to humanity especially the less-heard ones. If we tarried earlier, now is the time to move faster. So much needs to be done and how much time do we have left?

And it is always good to review how we so far lived and draw lessons from them. I was grateful for a vacation spent in Baguio last December. I had occasion to clean my wardrobe and jettison vanity. Clothes I wore when my waist was merely 25 inches still resided in my shelves . Others were from when I was size 26 to 28 and that was over a decade ago. I always thought I could wear them again. When I was going through them, I laughed at myself for being either clueless or delusional. I gave them away to people who would have use of them. The ones with sentimental value, I asked Pro Art Belen to repurpose them. But with the time in the world I have left, would I be able to wear them? I hope I will so as not to waste Belen’s work.

It turns out I was not alone in clinging to old clothes. Victor said he kept jeans sized inches away from his current frame hopeful he could shrink and wear them again. Well, now - decades later, I think- he knows the difference between illusion and probability.

I was a collector of art works for years. "You will not bring your material things to the afterlife." I heard this a lot before in my younger years. I never disagreed. But where else would I enjoy material things if not in the material world? So I kept accumulating more things of beauty and I would shake off guilt feelings by telling myself I was buying from artisans and promoting social causes, not contributing to the profit of the already rich. Now that I am older, I realize our house does not look like a home. It looks like an art gallery. I still admire the art pieces. But I can only I hope the children will enjoy them when I am no longer around. Now, I have lost interest in accumulating more material things although I get compelled when I need to do it for a cause or to support people. I will just enjoy the ones I already have.

Yes, I am now more accepting that the earthly circle that enveloped us and endowed us with familial security cannot be unbroken. After all, Dad went away almost 10 years ago. Death began claiming members of my generation after almost ravaging the older one. Actually, my childhood best friend, a member of our clan, died 13 months ago. Life on Earth was never meant to be eternal. No one is immortal.

However, there is a promise of a heavenly eternal life. Death is an exit door. But it is also an entrance to a life that is everything described as utopia. All it takes to partake of this is faith in the Almighty who also goes by God, Kabunian, and other names. In the sweet by-and-by, we shall meet again on that beautiful shore and re-form the broken earthly circle.

See you in the next life, Manong James. But let this not be soon.