The Wonderful World of Innocence
“There are men who love to gaze with the mind at things that can never be seen, feel at least the throb of a beauty that will never be known, and hear over immense bleak reaches the echo of that which is no celestial music, but only their own hearts’ vain cries…”
From “Dusky Ruth” by A.E. Coppard
How I would love to scoff at my pretentious title. Yet, WWI could stand not for war but for something consequential like that.
It has no bearing whatsoever to the contents of this entry but only to suitably introduce that more than perfect passage, especially the mind gazing part. How does one appropriate this colloquially? Focusing your 20/20 vision blindly to the invisible? If someone asks me the concept of innocence, I will readily quote him or her those lines.
And now, for the goldsmith kind of hard speak.
Pretend that I am playing with a plastic ball (striped, in blue and white) in a field with dragonflies. Kites are flown by unseen hands. Color them yellow. Yes, the hands. Paint the kites in b&w stripes. Put some starchy white clouds over me and if you may, jumping centipedes nearby. I know centipedes do not jump but imagine them jumping anyway.
Chances are, I will never lose that ball even if those centipedes are undermining my solemn self. If I lose it, clearly, my claws shall remain intact. I choose where to hurl my slings where they make a difference. And, yes, I may be forgiven for that. I am far and so out of the loop.
On that note, I would like to appeal on behalf of my mother and her fellow retirees who are now directed to claim their pension benefits from the provincial office of the GSIS. I do not see the logic of dragging people of age, some even in wheelchairs, to travel far and wide when they had the luxury of waiting for them via post before. I told my mother, this may be for your own protection to prevent fraud. When I blurted this out, I nevertheless figured: what better way to guard the delivery of those checks than to bring them directly to the homes of these retirees? That is ensuring that recipients truly get their benefits and not just some people pretending to be them.
My mother--I guess, she is one breed of individual who will always follow guidelines and rules (except in lining up and market concerns sometimes). She received a letter from GSIS that beginning February, she is to claim her pension benefits from the provincial office (she needs to take two rides to reach it).
It smacks of any reasoning why people like my mother, some of them thoroughly sickly, must go through the winding road of claiming their benefits requiring long periods of travel when there is an aligned government agency (the post office) to secure those deliveries safely. It was working finely before. On a more material note, she also told me that my departed father’s survivor’s benefits no longer carried the 13th month pay privilege unlike the previous years.
These old people just sit down and discuss their predicament among themselves without a howl. They play scrabble and learn new words. Delightful aging I would say. I think they are too old to get angry and cut-out placards to seek redress. Mama’s companion asked : “Who are they to dictate on us?” They, meaning, whoever conceptualized the elderly-horrid idea that from now on, these old people shall pretend they do not have arthritis and can walk briskly like gym-pumped citizens to enjoy the fruits of their previous labors. Damn if they suffer from cardiac arrests.
Musicians, do you have mothers like me? Writers, how about you? It is quite puzzling. This is one of the gaps in basic social services I do not see working in prop wars. Where is the proper treatment to people who had served in public service after they have retired?
My mother and her colleagues ought to be given convenience they should get. She seldom whines publicly. She holds the household together at an advanced age of 72. Give her gang their just and dignified due. The elderly could not sow discord at this point in time. They worry more about their sugar levels.