Turning Eighty

Nonfiction by | May 8, 2011

A warm surge of love and gratitude wells up from my being as I realize that these rejoicing and celebration are happening on my behalf. Never have I been the center of such attention. Never in my wild imaginings have I received tribute so salutary that I can hardly believe it is for me. Thank you, dear sisters mine! As you spoke about this wonderful character to this captive audience, revealing her wisdom, integrity, and goodness, I could not believe such an ideal creature could exist! Well, apparently, she does! And she is me! And I am she! I want to believe this. Really, I do! Let this be the magic moment when it all comes true!

To turn eighty years old seems to be an accomplishment by itself. A generation or so ago, to turn sixty was to be old; to turn seventy was ancient, and to turn eighty was almost an intervention against nature. However, with the advent of antibiotics and the advancement of science, we octogenarians are growing in number as we hold on to dear life. We may yet make the world a better place to live in with our long acquired wisdom and experience. But if we don’t, do continue keeping us kindly and gently. Someday, you too will be in this stage where we are now.

Thank you, my children, for giving me this moment of glory. Thank you, my siblings for being kind to me in thought and in word. Thank you, Otep, for making this event a lively, happy one! My deepest thanks to all of you who consented to participate in this program, largely due to Gertrude’s prodding. Noli, Joey, Kyla, my cenacle group, let me sing to you a line in exchange: “Thank you for the music, for giving it to me.” Thank you all for your presence, your good wishes, your gifts!

May we all live long and happily. God bless us all! Thank you!


Jo Bacani Angeles, a writer by profession (UST, Philets), dabbles in the visual arts and to her credit has sold several paintings. She never tells how old she is, unless it is for a legal document or a medical record. Having people know one’s age limits one’s contacts, prospects, and relationships, she says. Her children, however, spill the beans on her milestone birthdays, giving her a bash, and letting her blow the telling candles on her cake!

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