Getting our senior act together
Ang gulo ng mga classmates natin, tokaya. Ayoko na yata! I-cancel na lang natin!”Dr. Chit Reodica , former Health Secretary, had reached the limit of her otherwise limitless patience. Her octogenarian high-school classmates, from St. Theresa’s, Quezon City, were being difficult. No one could commit; very few said they were attending a meeting at her home to discuss plans for our platinum jubilee next year—most of those who said they couldn’t make it gave lame excuses. Me—I usually find a driver I can hire on a Sunday, so I could be there.
But why was it so difficult to get ourselves together to prepare for an occasion I thought so significant for us? Are we too old for such things? I’m 84, and one of the youngest in class, and it is the sort of occasion that should excite us in old age, for not many like it will come around—we are celebrating our 70th year since high-school graduation. Then, I realized what is said about people like us “old women” and in particular old women, who by their Theresian schooling may feel more empowered than others.
My tokaya decided to hold us to the promises we had made earlier on our online thread. Well, their own broken promise got everyone’s attention, and all of a sudden all 11 of us could make it, after all.
More empowered
Alas, at the last minute, my Sunday driver had an emergency, and cancelled. I was embarrassed, particularly because the meeting had been set for a Sunday at my request. Very decisively, Doktora Chit hired a driver for her car to pick me up, and a common friend would take me home. Oh wow, if that’s not loving me, God didn’t make little green apples…
Next hurdle: the menu. Not that there weren’t any suggestions, there were in fact too many, but this time Chit wasn’t open to any; it was her house after all. And so, all was set: lechon, pesang manok, baked salmon, pansit palabok, fruits for dessert.
In a group, especially the sort of group we are, nothing moves forward without someone taking charge. We elected our officers, but we knew from the start who our president would be. My tokaya, however, would not accept the position unless I was her vice. Now after all those little green apples, how could I refuse?
But practically no one else wanted any more responsibilities at this point in their lives. It was, however, easy to understand why the position of treasurer was specifically avoided, so we forced it on the very responsible and the most lucid among us, Mona. Fanny, our forever class representative, agreed to be secretary, but not without a struggle either.
After lunch, we got down to the business at hand. We decided we would indeed have to present a number at our homecoming. It’s going to be a surprise, probably even to us, and certainly to the audience.
For many years now, we have been the oldest class still presenting . We certainly could not disappoint the younger classes, who have always been the kindest and most generous of audiences. I think, for them, just seeing us appear at homecomings is amazing enough and whatever we do on stage is nothing short of a miracle, like the legendary fiesta in San Roque where the mute sang and the lame danced.
We will be a hit, for sure, without trying. But first, the challenge of how to get everybody up on the stage, and that was quickly solved by going first, ahead of all the others, while we can be on feet as fresh as they can possibly be. That way, not coming after any performers and taxing the audience’s patience, we can prepare early and then take our time climbing.
Lasting bond
This time again, we may need a male escort to help us move around and make sure we’re where we ought to be. Usually we hired a dancing instructor, but this time we may need a couple of male nurses instead.
Now, how to get off the stage? We still haven’t figured that one out. Our former Secretary of Health has assured us, in any case, that there will be an ambulance on the premises.
How did we get so old? But of course, we were among the first classes to graduate. The school was established in 1947, a long building between two major streets. We were a sister school to the main and original St. Theresa’s in Manila, on San Marcelino Street, established in 1915 by a Belgian nun, Mother Marie Louise de Meester of the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. And that’s where I went for college.
Sadly, the main school has been sold, and is now an extension of Adamson University. The Quezon City branch is the only home left to both schools. All the more reason to prepare big time for what may well be our last hurrah.
Is it because we are all women? Or is it because we’re old? Or it because we are all Theresians? It’s probably because we are all three! But threads tend to become annoying after a while. Is it because you can speak your mind in cyberspace? Not everyone reads it regularly, and those are the very ones who keep asking what everybody else already knows and someone has to answer. There are those who love to post prayerful chain letters with the best intentions which I ignore.
Otherwise a thread is a very useful connection with old friends who live far and are out of your current social world. I envy those who are still playing mahjong or golf with old classmates. Theirs is a lasting bond.
