Spare the Time

I have always wondered what it would be like when I am old? How the simple tasks that we take for granted such as climbing the stairs and holding a cup, day to day tasks that I once found easy to carry out would become more difficult?

At times as I sat back on the bench in a park and pondered on life as it passes by me, it occurred to me that that I am stuck in a fit of frustration that things aren’t the same as they used to be while I am still called upon to earn a living the same as everyone else?

This frustration had inevitably lead to an increase in grumpiness and discontent in me and many other, which made me realise why so many uncles and aunties, for that matter, in Singapore seem to walk around with a perpetual frown on their faces. The saying “worked to the bone” really makes sense in this case.

We all feel invincible when we are young, the feeling that nothing is impossible and that life is a a journey of endless opportunity and happiness. Aging is the furthest thing from our minds. We want to live in the biggest house and drives the most fanciest cars. We want to date the most attractive girls and party all night out. As the saying goes 'we want to paint the town red'. As we want to seize the proverbial day and, in doing so, get caught up in the daily grind and work our butts off just to pay the bills, put food on the table and chase that promotion that we always wanted… allowing ourselves a bit of leisure along the way. And then, before we know it, we find ourselves collecting our CPF and deciding what to do with the remaining years of our lives.

As I walked around the town after work, what gets to me is seeing these uncles and aunties having to eke out a living at fast foods restaurant and shopping centres, when, at their age, they should be at home, relaxing and enjoying themselves, reaping the benefits of a life of hard work and retirement and enjoying their time with family and children or their grandchildren.

It is no surprise that as we transcended from a third world to first in such, Singapore became ever more competitive and those who either can't or don’t keep up – even the elderly – risk getting left behind. This has been echoed by the political leaders many times. It’s just the nature of the society we live in. If you don’t continue earning your keep, what else is there left for you to do but lie down and die? You cannot be a burden to the society. Cruel, but true.

The other day I was at volunteering my time at an elderly home when i overheard a young person asked an elderly old man how he feels about being old. The elderly man sat solemnly on his wheel chair staring blankly at the face of the questioner; look up at the ceiling, in an apparent deep thought. Upon seeing his reaction, she was immediately embarrassed by her question. However as if the passage of time reached up to him, he glanced back at the youth and said, "That it an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let you know."
I look at all the residents of the old folk’s home and decided that Old Age is a gift. They are now, probably for the first time in their life, the person they have always wanted to be. The wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt are not something that they despair any longer.

The old man's answer strikes me hard to the core. He would never trade his amazing friends that he had made along the years, his wonderful life and loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. He said that as he aged, he became kinder and less critical to himself. He has become his own friend.

We chide our self for eating that extra cookie and snooping at night for a late night supper, or for not making our beds in the morning. As we grow older, I realised that we are entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. As they saw too many of their dear friends leaving this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

I observed with great interest as the elderly residents dance to themselves to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's and laughs at the simplest of joke and the innocence of conversation. I know like them, I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, there are something in life is just as well forgotten and I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I supposed the elderly residents are blessed to have lived long enough to have their hair turned gray, and to have the youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on their faces. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. You don't question yourself anymore. You even earned the right to be wrong.

Without hesitation the elderly man answered the youth "I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.

For us whose still enjoys the youthfulness of life and still have to be bothered by the dealings of day to day demands let us do our small part to make things a little easier for the aged. Clear your tray the next time you finish a meal at the hawker centre. Mop up that mess you made at your neighbourhood fast food outlet. Make way for that old auntie who’s rushing to get a seat in the train even before you disembark. Place not one, but two dollars in the hand of the uncle who spends his days selling tissue paper on the street corner and wondering where his next meal will come from.

These are all tiny sacrifices, but they would make a big difference. Because one day, it might well be an aged you or me in some eatery mopping up spilled sundaes, creaky bones notwithstanding, and we’d be thankful for every little gesture that made our remaining years that little bit easier.