At my age, there’s always the question of whether to celebrate or not a nonmilestone birthday. I didn’t celebrate my 78th on Feb. 7, not in the comparatively big way I celebrated my 75th.

Seventy-five seems to me the benchmark; beyond that, every birthday ceases to be just another one and it has to be celebrated. But this year I felt like 78 had come too soon. I was just recovering from a heavy season of disorganized fun—Christmas, New Year, and a weeklong foreign trip sans kasambahay Lani, who had herself gone on her yearly two-week vacation during the season. To top it all, our easy houseguests, Vergel’s brother and his wife, whom we had not seen in nearly three years, had arrived.

For a big laugh on the first hour of the birthday I felt too strained to celebrate, I got a greeting call on the first waking hour from a Shakey’s outlet in Balanga, Bataan, telling me to pick up my free pizza!

We had an impromptu lunch with college classmates—they happened to have birthday gifts for me and co-celebrator Malu —after our regular visit to our sick friend, Lina, who’s looking better with every visit. She rose from bed, dressed up and joined us for lunch—the first time in her condition!

In the middle of lunch, I received an overseas call from LA. It was my 95-year-old uncle Pipo, whose calls in Spanish thrill me no end. At his age, he still remembers to greet me on special occasions! He even called again when we got cut off to make me promise to relay his recuerdos to my husband, Vergel. So many good things to smile about!

I totally agree with whoever said, “I thought old age would take longer,” because here I am, only two years shy of 80! I’m not exactly preparing for a particular grand affair, but for old age—which is the rest of my life.

I gifted myself a Fitbit watch that cares; it won’t allow me to stay idle for long and monitors my sleep and my heartbeat. I’ve also set my heart on being happy. And if I do make it gorgeously to 80, I’ll do as I damn please!

Different mold

Cousin Sylvia in her own way is asserting herself, too, but she’s made in a different mold. Being the eldest in our exclusive club of three cousins and a BFF, she hit 80 on Jan. 31; the rest of us are the same age 78.

Sylvia has always been the simplest, the most mature, and the most responsible among us. Way before her birthday, she warned her boys a surprise party was the last thing she wanted. They suggested a family cruise, but she turned that down, too.

One day we got a call from her, and apparently all three of us had reacted in the same way. “What?” We couldn’t disguise our shock and discomfort. “A lunch in Cainta with her L’Arche Community?” This was a community for the severely handicapped, one of two of Sylvia’s advocacies—the other one is a school for special children where her own special child goes.

We tried to dissuade her. Cainta was too far; besides, we were looking forward to our usual intimate lunch, possibly in a famous chef’s restaurant or one offering a 50-percent discount. Eventually, she relented and we had a joint one at Makati Garden Club later in February.

But her own “celebration” was set for Sunday, Jan. 28, three days short of her 80th, so we could be spared the traffic —so considerate up to that detail. Unfortunately, Vergel and I couldn’t make it.

Charitable organization

Sylvia has supported the community, through the Ang Arko ng Pilipinas organization, from its onset in 1987. It’s the Philippine affiliate of L’Arche International, a charitable organization founded in France in 1963 by Jean Vanier, the son of Canadian governor general Georges and Pauline Vanier. Inspired by the beatitudes, Vanier hoped to rescue people rejected by society for their mental handicaps.

The Ang Arko website describes itself as a nonstock, nonprofit organization whose mission is to “provide shelter where handicapped and normal people live, work and pray together, sharing suffering and joy as brothers and sisters.” Ang Arko is one of L’Arche’s 137 communities in 40 countries.

I remember that some years ago, during a major flood, Sylvia was trapped for two days in one of the two houses in the community she visits regularly, at the time home and workplace to about 100 people—residents, salaried teachers and volunteers. Her pickup completely submerged, her driver decided to swim back through the muck to get food supply and help and contact her family to assure them she was safe.

After the floods, the community homes needed much repair, and, through Sylvia, many friends and relatives responded with donations and effort.

Caring presence

On Sylvia’s birthday celebration, Nening Manahan, whom we met at the Colegio de Padre Poveda in Madrid in the ’50s, was among the many loyal friends in attendance. She said, “How admirable for Syl to celebrate her 80th at Ang Arko in Cainta, where she has been a caring presence to the first residents—Jordan, Raymond, Lala, Mariflor, John Paul.”

To quote from the homily at the Mass: “Sylvia has dedicated a good part of her 80 years to nourishing special people through respectful and loving relationship building.”

Aurora Coronel, a retiree from the Philippine foreign service and a member of the Winner Foundation, a foundation dedicated to saving and planting trees, with whom Syl is also affiliated, shared this: “I was happy to be there to celebrate Syl’s 80th, but also to experience the pure and guileless inner beings of those special children and adults as well as the selflessness, patience and generosity of all those trained to live with them.”

From Amy Ylagan, a BusinessWorld columnist, and also from Winner Foundation: “Sylvia’s celebration was a declaration of pure love manifesting in true concern and care for those who have less in life—doubly from poverty and in physical/mental capabilities. She feels for their lack, and has gone above and beyond feeling to doing something for these innocent children of God.”

Amy added, “There wasn’t a dry eye in the audience when the children danced and sang for us.”