He was in his late years. I accidentally met him one morning sitting alone
on a bench under the hadlayati tree at Rizal Park. I hardly recognized him.
With his gray hair and wrinkled face he smiled at me. He forgot my name, but
still remembered that I was once a young rookie under him quite some years
ago with the Butuan City Police Department.
We talked of the good old days. There was sparkle in his eyes as we
reminisced the past. He still had his humor. He recalled well the
names of comrades who put up the police department after the big
war and how they restored order and stability from lawlessness of
the time. He mentioned Filimon Busa, Jose Burdeos, Cabalan, Colima,
Gayon, Dadyong Torralba and Subla. There was sadness in his voice
when he said that all of them were gone. He felt that he was the last
one left to hang down the final curtain of an eventful brotherhood of long ago.
He had the abundance of affection and care from his family, yet he was
lonely. The emptiness of importance and the contemptuous premise of
senility were his world. He no longer commands nor took charge of
things and neither had authority anymore to exercise judgement. His
usefulness as a person was already taken for granted. He ran out of
purpose. Like others before him, he too was set aside to idleness.
One of the most influential people in my formative life was a respectable
lady. She was my high school teacher. She earned her impeccable reputation
and well deserved regards from students and peers. She played a big role
in molding my character and in preparing me to face challenges. She got
my highest esteem and gratitude.
I was back home for a visit after a long absence. I was dismayed to learn
from classmates of what became of my mentor. During her final years, she
was not only deprived of her stature and respectability but also on the
simplest decency supposedly accorded to human beings. When she lost
control of her faculties, she helplessly struggled. She crawled on the
floor to get around the house and at times bathed herself with her own
body waste.
These unhappy incidents personify the plight of many senior citizens
in Butuan today. When retirement comes and work is done, rather than
enjoy life on the free time they have, they instead languish in boredom
from inactivity and depravation from neglect. Butuan is not an isolated
case. It happens all over the country and even in affluent places.
Neglect on the care of the aged is common. Abandoned homeless old people
are found roaming the streets for handouts to survive.
I was with Fr. Carlito Classe, the parish priest of Espiranza last
spring in Butuan. He brought me to the home for abandoned elderly in
Libertad. Fr. Dinnis Frisco ran the facility. He called his place
Por Cristo. His bishop allowed his calling to provide care to the
homeless old people as his apostulate. Fr. Classe talked highly of
him. He said that Fr. Dennis was some kind of Mother Theresa in the making.
From the outside, the building looked like a poultry house. But rather
than chicken, senior citizens dwelt inside. I walked around the facility.
I could hardly believe my eyes. It was beyond my rationale for humans to
still live this way this day in age. I failed to reconcile my thoughts
with conceivable justification. I left totally dismayed and even angry
why society tolerated such condition to exist. It was quite difficult for
me to hold back my emotion.
I tried to soften down my feeling with redeeming consolation that this
kind of inhumanity was not exclusive to Butuan alone. I've travel far and
wide and had also witnessed ugliness in all shape and form. But never did
it come to my thoughts that this detestable degradation of human condition
commonly found in big centers somewhere is already rooted deeply and openly
in a place I had been proudly calling my home.
I've known Butuan to be loving and caring where almost everyone was closely
and amiably attached in kinship and friendship. This was the kind of Butuan
I always bragged about. Reality was indeed hard to swallow on what I saw at
Por Cristo. Sometime between now and then something must have gone terribly
wrong, that social apparatus to afford adequate safeguard to the vulnerable
failed to keep pace with the city's growth.
Up from my hotel window, I noticed across the street from Rizal Park along
Curato Street a homeless old man sleeping on the same spot of the sidewalk
nightly. He was barely skin and bones. He could hardly stand up. He wore
tattered and heavily soiled clothing. His place on the sidewalk was few
meters away from the vendor's stand selling assorted delicacies to passersby.
One early morning, when the street was still empty of traffic and
pedestrians, my wife and I went down to see this hapless old man. He
refused to entertain us at first. He was somewhat annoyed and won't even
talked to us. We gave him pan de sal and hot chocolate from the vendor
stand. He accepted it and started eating. He must be starving that we
had to buy more. He stood up after and kind of walked sideways ala John
Wayne style. From then on we called him John Wayne. We found a friend.
On way to church each morning, my wife passed by John Wayne to give him
his breakfast. There was sadness when we said farewell the day we flew
back home. The vendor stand owner assured us that she would continue
giving him pan de sal and hot chocolate in the morning. We also asked Fr.
Dinnis Frisco to take good care of him.
John Wayne was a peculiar fellow. He doesn't talk. His little spot on the
sidewalk was his whole world. He just crossed his legs and sat on the
pavement with his back against the wall being completely unmindful of
what went on around him. I wondered why he left home or why his family
abandoned him this way.
John Wayne capsulizes in the extreme what progress brings in to people.
It shackles the traditional and cultural values of families. Husband and
wife both leaves home to work in compliance with the increasing cost of
living. With this arrangement, something has to give way. It's not only
the children that are compromised but more so on the care of the elderly
at home. Then, when push comes to shove; the elderly leaves home or simply
just being driven out.
This scenario is not a myth. It has been happening even in my place, that I
chose to put my little worth on Filipino seniors upon my retirement. We made
good strides since then. I was thinking that the process we are using here
is also applicable in Butuan. Yes, I knew that it's a different world. But
we can make adjustment. The skills and proficiency of retirees in Butuan
today is in fold sufficient enough to achieve worthwhile projects for
themselves and for those in needs. With a little support from senior
counterparts abroad, such initiative may work out well.
With a similar concept, the Butuan City Alumni Seniors Association came
into existence. It has 260 retired senior members now. The club is
presently engaged with designed programs, including assistance to
seniors in distress. They played a big role during the inaugural
celebration of the new Por Cristo facilities in Abilan lately. They also
donated to each occupant their basic needs as clothes, blanket, mosquito
net, banig, canned goods, hygienic materials and make-up kit to ladies. In
addition, door to door boxes of goodies will be sent to them regularly
through the association, courtesy from Filipino seniors in Canada.
Although the association is committed in charitable and civic involvement,
the main objective is to address senior's boredom from inactivity and
idleness. It undertakes educational programs to encourage Butuan seniors
to remain active in society. It provides social and recreational activities
and pastime diversion outlets to club members and seniors at large.
Seventy percent of club's resources are allocated for this purpose.
The weakening shadow is upon us and demanding responsibilities are
accomplished. We now have the freedom to exercise self-wanting without
restriction from confining priorities. Let us therefore savor the
goodness of life and spend our golden years with fervor in leisure and
amusement.
We shall ignore from existence any irritant cobwebs of the past and exempt
ourselves from the crippling burden of the present. We instead shall embrace
our last few moments in happiness. Time has come to devoid us from pitfalls
and quarrels of the day. We have done our share. The task is now passed
onward into the hands of the young.
Twilight calls and solitude begins to emerge. Reminiscences gladden our
thoughts as we trace back the faded footsteps in the sand. Satisfaction
fills the heart as we take cognizance of past merits. We gave it our best.
It was hard work and things we've done, we did it well. Let's reward
ourselves. We deserve it. It's time to party.
Happy New Year!
