Have you seen the old man on the street corner? The one with the lose spectacles? my mother asked.
I turned my eyes off the road for awhile to see the old man, I recognized him as a tricycle driver from my brothers’ school. He was thin and frail, he was wearing a blue polo shirt. His eyeglasses clung loosely on his nose. But when he saw my mother, he flashed a very big smile.
Yes, I have, I said. Where’s his tricycle?
He’s sold it, she said.
Why? To put the money in KAPA? I said without mirth.
No, I think he used the money to go to Iloilo. He nearly died because of illness, he went to see his mother for the last time.
Really? He goes to the other church, right? I said.
Yes, he does. He just got back. It’s good to see that he finally recovered.
Why did he go to Iloilo? I asked, curious. Doesn’t he have a family here?
It was really sad, my mother said, his mother really cried when she found out that his son is dying that’s why he went to Iloilo, to spend his last moments with his mother. It really is a pity. He also had to take care of his wife with cancer. It reached a point where he himself would insert the catheter because his wife couldn’t pee anymore.
Is she dead? What about his children? I asked.
Yes, some time ago. His children are here but they also have their own lives, my mother replied.
I wondered about him as a husband, a father, and a son. Would I be the same when I grow old? To be strong and be patient when my wife is dying as well? To sell off what I have to spend what would be my final moments with my aging mother? To live without the companion of my children? To go through everything he went through and still flash my biggest smile when I meet someone I know while I stand in the corner of the street?
I didn’t talk anymore. I only stared on the road in front of me.
Kuku Notebook 