When I Grow Old

Way back when I was very young, I used to dream of things and begin each wish with “When I grow up…” It was also one of the questions way back then for essays, or for talent searches.

“When I grow up I want to be an accountant,” was my reply to the teachers and to some classmates in high school. I did not become an accountant. Instead I become one of those engineers that do not require passing the board. I did not become a bona fide engineer. Instead I become a QMS auditor and a document analyst that has little of something to do with what I graduated from. Was it fate? It just sounded so mechanical that one cannot do something about his life and what he wanted to be, and what he wanted to do.

Because I am nearing middle age (almost there I guess), I now begin contemplating on what I want to be, and what I want to do when I grow old. I do not want to be popular, of course. It is very far from what I want. I just wanted to be a simple person who can be dependable still though advanced in age. I do not want to be as self-centered though they say this is one of those traits old people commonly have. I do not want to be as useless, who prefer to be idle even though there is still remaining strength to be of help. I do not want to be as cynical who seems not to realize that physical beauty does not last forever. I do not want to be as insensitive who hurls nasty comments to anything just to say anything.

I wish that I will be a ‘good’ old person so that the people around me will not wish me dead, or shout at me, or ignore me. I do not want to feel the indifference. I do not want to feel the cold shoulder.

It maybe inevitable to receive once in a while the uncaring attitude of some, or the lack of interest of another. But I hope and pray that someday, I will grow old happy and contented.

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