JAIME K, PIMENTEL – WHAT do I want to bequeath to my grandkids when I go?
We arrived at this question during our latest strictly-male grumpy old geezers’ pow-wow recently. You know, as with those characters that come to large functions and stay back and sit down for more earth-shaking business when the show’s done?
Business like important answers to questions that can reshape the world: Who do we know that’s still alive and kicking? Who’s developing dementia? Who’s undergone a heart bypass? When’s the next colonoscopy? Did womanising dirty old Cirilo been caught out yet?
Yep, that kind of serious stuff.
After the opening jokes and silly stories, the question was put to Candido: “What do you wish you could bequeath to your children and grandchildren?”
“Nutting!” was Candido’s curt reply.
Stunned silence.
“You’re joking, Candido. It’s not like you to say something like that.”
“I don’t have children, you idiots! You forget I never married?”
Embarrassed laughter.
Candido shoots back: “And what about you demented married men with children? What will you bequeath to your grandkids?”
“Ummm…” Doming takes up the challenge, “I will bequeath to my children and grandchildren the family home I built.” (Is that so? Doming had it built on the cheap with his daughter’s earnings over 15 years.)
Followed by Alfonso: “I have Superannuation that’s coming to me when I turn 65 next year. (Oh yeah? Alfonso said last year that he’d travel the world over with the money.)
Peping chimes in: “My small turo-turo business downtown will go to my grandchildren.” (Yeah, right. Peping’s only child is already in medical school already. Last thing he’ll need is a turo-turo.)
And Danding: “I have a sizeable family inheritance that I would like to pass on to my children.” (Inheritance, my eye. What, a canoe that Danding calls his love boat?)
Paquito announces proudly: “My wife’s got a lot of jewelry. I brought every single one of them. The kids can have them when I go.” (Wow. Have you seen Paquito’s wife wearing all those fancy necklaces, bracelets and earrings from Target?)
Then the group is hit with a gem from the most unlikely old geezer, Manolito, the butt of our jokes who dropped out after fourth grade:
“Y-Y-You know what I w-want to l-l-leave my six children?” Manolito starts with his characteristic stutter. “I-I want to leave them a w-w-world in p-peace. No wars. Before I go, I w-w-want to see C-China make peace in the P-Pacific Sea!” (He meant South China Sea, of course).
The rest of us couldn’t believe Manolito could be so profound, man-of-the-world-like who could take in the bigger picture.
We felt a little embarrassed at being short-sighted and downright materialistic. None but Manolito was prepared to leave our children with so little about life when the old man goes.
But was Manolito chasing rainbows? Was he out of his mind?
Not so, it was decided. We called it a night and raised our glasses for a final toast:
Peace on earth, indeed.