A few days back, I got in touch with my younger brother Dennis.
Momentous it was, as we exchanged “Happy Birthday” greetings, at a time when we simultaneously marked our birth anniversaries.
I turned 65 on March 12 and it was about 9:30 p.m. in Toronto and he turned 62 on March 13 and it was about 9:30 a.m. in Manila.
Seriously, good things happen when brothers wisely use the wonders of time zones and modern technology.
Wait! What? Dennis became a senior two years ahead of me.
Oh, gee! In the Philippines, one is honored with senior citizenship at the age of 60. In Canada, it’s 65.
*****
(I like the magic number 65.
It reminds me of the countless, exhilarating and well-spent hours I had with my grandchildren watching cartoons on “Treehouse” that airs over Channel 65.
For clarity’s sake, it never was anywhere near second childhood.)
*****
So, Dennis and I engaged in light banter and talked about wide-ranging stuff that covered most, if not all, the serious issues and concerns that rule our life as “easy-go-lucky but working and productive” seniors today.
He has his Philippine senior’s card that gives him a number of perks, benefits and discounts.
Really, I never thought of even applying for such a card.
I thought that my face would amply amplify my image as a senior.
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(Someone once told me: If your problem is your face, face your problem.
I stopped facing mirrors.
Someone also asked me: Have you been to the Toronto Zoo?
I broke all our mirrors.)
*****
For some fleeting minutes, Dennis and I had quick snaps of forgetfulness.
We missed recalling visits to doctors, having joint aches, using crutches and canes and all else related.
But we remembered great memories of doing what our minds and senses dictated on us, things that would make our bodies and physiques shudder and tremble with disdain.
Expectedly for two aging clowns like us, the long chat – wow, two hours of free speech! – Dennis and I had in Messenger’s circus ring echoed with laughter.
We missed seeing each other, though.
Our gizmos (his hand-me-down cellular phone and my hand-me-down laptop) were as antiquated as us, and did not support video sharing.
However, we sure could imagine seeing each other letting that usual hearty guffaw out, and that was good enough for brothers who have not been around with each other for quite a long time.
*****
Brexit 329 and Boeing 737 Max 8s were non-topics for us. Like our senior years, they were simply numbers.
Hooping favorites Ginebra San Miguel and the Raptors were never mentioned. But we touched on sports, like if we still did our thing on the hardcourt – the dribble, the pass, the go-for-the-bucket. I could see his smile vividly when I told him I could still stand and walk, although, as oft said, it still had to be proven in court.
Dirty domestic politics plaguing the native land was a non-issue “kahit mag-otso-otso pa ang mga politiko” on May 13. It’s the same undated and updated shame in the adoptive land, isn’t it?
Seniors like us, we agreed, trash all these trivialities.
We are better off with simple living with a touch of grace, a very serious circumstance we give due regard and importance.
*****
Offbeat, many of the seniors I have been around with through the years would shrug shoulders, stare coldly and give one a tight lip when one laid political, social, economic and other “ridiculous trivia” on the table.
Silently, they showed and told annoying moonwalkers to leave them alone with their coffee and muffin, taken in between a main discourse of endless and moving tales of good grandparenting.
Is there someone out there still so persistent to grab a senior’s attention with Garbology (the science of garbage)? Then, prepare to likely face a speedy judgment of Dontoctomy (the science of bad breath).
In the company of seniors, those who have “bad breath” should profess to a vow of silence?
*****
Dennis, before signing off, advised me to continue dreaming big.
I told him I would do so.
Since then, I slept longer.
*****
By the way, Dennis told me about the pestering hot and humid summer besetting the Philippines, a reason why he had a ceiling fan installed in his living room.
In return, I narrated what Canadians had to go through during the winter past.
Meantime, we brushed aside the thought of visiting each other and exchanging climate-friendly underwear.
*****
Hurrah! The Day of the Equinox has arrived. Spring is here.
Leaves sprout and fields bloom; as birds perch on branches and chirp a warm morning welcome.
Dawn comes earlier and dusk takes over a bit later.
Temps rise over the freeze, as Mr. Sun thaws and melts away winter’s snow.
Golden dandelions amass over brown and green.
Hibernators awake, geese fly back.
Mother Nature begins another of its four miraculous episodes.
The season will change.
Hopefully, people and dispositions change too.
Children are on March break; adults look forward to spring cleaning.
Dennis is awed with spring.
I told him spring works wonders. It is a season bereft of static, heavy jackets, shaking knees, slush, aching joints, cold feet and everything associated with the season preceding it.
How I wish Dennis decides to visit in the winter.
I pray that when it happens, we could laugh about it together.
*****
What just happened?
Did Dennis really click on the red icon that indicated “end of chat?” ####