After 45 years, we remain the same, valuable antiques. We, individually, are antiques who has varied past or historical significance, which can sometimes add to our overall value as human being, in our different capacities,- work, family, beliefs, persuasions, both political and religious, and so on. But three major things would define who we are. We are all survivors, of sickness and turmoil. We are all achievers in the eyes of those who love us, and we are the Batch 1978. (Regardless if you are around at Cunanan's or Tamisan from March 4 to 5 or not.)
We parted ways and lived our own lives after high school, but this occasion streamed us together. At this very moment.
After 45 years, we are now different people. We no longer smell the same as before. Girls no longer smell like inexpensive perfume but like liniment. You do not carry slambook in your bags but maintenance medicines.
That boy thing no longer stands tall when we comb our hair but keenly observes when we tie our shoes. At this age when the only hardest thing in the morning is standing up from bed.
We were taught by the same teachers. We all bivouacked in Tugtugin, We all watched Bruce Lee films at Golden Gate Theater, Charles Bronson movies in Levi Rama, and "bomba" films in Gem or Guy and Pip flicks in El Mundo. Those were the days, unlike today in the day of cellphones with cameras when we queue at Sam-Pris, La Guardia, V-Art Studio, or Nelen’s Art for a groupie or a selfie.
We are very lucky that we reached the year 2023 and this era of advanced or modern technology that we experience today as senior citizens. But let us pray to those souls, teachers, and classmates, who have not reached this far. I would not mention them here. Just say their names in our prayers.
We all sing to the tunes of The Carpenters and Freddie Aguilar. We enjoyed Lipps candy, Timbura, and Banana Cue, and swigging gin at Monien during our school days, but when we separated after leaving the "original" San Jose High School, each one went his or his way.
We spread throughout the province, the rest of the Philippines, or the world and invaded other places in the country. Some preferred to stay here but our commonality hinges on the fate that we were gratefully accommodated by the fullness of life and the grace of God.
Volcanic eruptions, the proliferation of heinous crimes both of lawless elements and the law enforcers themselves, the earthquakes, floods, internal conflicts, and COVID-19, and our individual medical, familial, or personal issues. All the tragedies, natural or otherwise, that occurred in the long 45 years of our existence and all humanity in general, were not able to stop us from the coming of the old friends here today celebrating and sharing life with all memories and giving thanks.
We graduated high school in the year when the boxing legend Manny Pacquiao and vice-president and education secretary Sara Z. Duterte was born. We even graduated high school two years before Eat Bulaga was first put on the air.
Abroad, the now familiar rainbow flag as a symbol of LGBTQ+ was first flown in San Francisco in 1978. But it was also the year when my namesake, the great illustrator Norman Rockwell passed away. As a boxing fan, let me include that Muhammad Ali vs. Leon Spinks fought twice in 1978 and they won apiece. Ali regained his lost greatness after that shameful upset from Spinks.
The memories of our past encourage us to succeed in the respective lines which we had chosen. To continue to live life. But as we travel longer in life, there are times when we, as individual pieces of artifacts in an archive of life and humanity, meet momentarily somewhere, sometimes face to face, sometimes virtual, sometimes together, and sometimes converge upon the same museum, so to speak, as we create power in our own way. A power in friendship.
We are each other’s and the world’s most valuable antiques. Because we are friends.
Forever.
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(Photo:
Dr. Marilyn S. Pille, D.Ed.)
