“I now leave it to future generations of journalists to fight for press freedom and the truth”
WHEN you get old like me, in my golden sunset years at 97 years, nearing 98, you spend time reminiscing and thanking the Almighty for giving you the grace to still be alive when people much younger than you are already bed-ridden, sick or have died.
That’s why I take this occasion to thank God that I still am able to write this column.
Looking back to the years of my youth, I am thankful to God that I am still healthy and strong.
Yes, there have been many regrets, for the dreams that I had wanted to achieve, but could not, my gulay! .First of all I am thankful to God that I am happily married to the “love of my life” who is both intelligent and mature, who gave me four children, three boys and a girl.
I am a lawyer and have been for more than seven decades a journalist. What I am most thankful to God for is that, as a journalist, I have done my bit to attain a free press.
I am also thankful to God for the many rewards I have received in my lifetime as a journalist.
I may not be as productive as a journalist now as I was when I was young, when I could hammer away on my typewriter and write a column everyday , and still be active in my television and radio programs every week. Oh yes, Santa Banana, in my younger days, I could do it all.
I thought that when I reached the age of 65, I could retire, but I could not because we journalists do not have a retirement pension.
For us journalists, we cannot retire until we mark “30.” Besides, if I had retired early, what would I do? Santa Banana, I could be a burden to my wife if I just stayed home all day. My gulay, with all the typewriters I hammered on, I could well build a museum of worn out typewriters.
I am no longer as strong and healthy as I was when I was younger. My old friends have started getting fewer and fewer. I tried to call some of them so we could meet up and have lunch but, sadly, most of them passed away, are very sick or have dementia.
But I am still able to invite some of them for lunch together with my wife.
At my age, I leave everything to the will of God, which relieves me of all the stress and problems that I encounter, big or small.
My wife and I are most grateful to our only daughter whom we live with and to our caregivers.
Oh yes, my wife and I already have caregivers whom we depend on for our daily necessities.
And I am glad that at my age I can still eat whatever I want, like my favorite misono steak at Kimpura, Japanese food at Sugi and Peking Duck at Jade Garden.
There have been, as I said, things I regret. I am no longer as active as I was with the MOPC or the Manila Overseas Press Club, the oldest newsmen organization in the country organized by foreign correspondents who covered the liberation of the Philippines back in 1945.
Up until 2020, when the COVID pandemic started,I was very active with the 365 Club, which I co-founded in the 70s with the late Mayor Nemesio Yabut, Manuel Dayrit, Doroy Valencia and Joe Viterbo.
The 365 Club was a club of media personalities and businessmen who met every morning for breakfast at the Intercontinental Hotel in Makati to talk about issues of the day.
Somebody asked me what my philosophy is. Well,I leave everything to God, who will decide when I die. But, as long as I am alive, I will do my best to do God’s will.
As a veteran and multi-awarded journalist, I now leave it to future generations of journalists to fight for press freedom and the truth.
There is so much misinformation and fake news now. I have always regarded the fight as unending, like the road that never ends.
At my age, now nearing 98 years, I believe whatever happens to me, I leave to the will of God. And if my wife, now at 93 years, dies ahead of me, I also consider it the will of God. I am thankful to God I got married to the love of my life. Santa Banana, what more can a man ask for?
This Holy Week, I would like to remind my readers that God sacrificed His only Son, Jesus Christ, who was conceived of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried;
He descended into hell; on the third day He rose from the dead.
Just remember that there would be no Easter Sunday without a Good Friday. God loves us all.