By Rex Catubig   

 

WHILE it is popularly believed that the senses are dulled as one ages, I find that the opposite is actually true: Age sharpens the senses and enhances one’s perception of things. Simply said, one becomes acutely sensitive to the changes around him. And one becomes more appreciative of those that wanton youth takes for granted–time.

There was a movie that essayed the doomed romance of a terminally ill couple. Their relationship that’s only a few days old, gave an insightful glimpse of how  they grappled with imminent death at the same time that they showed us a unique perspective of life.

As the ill-starred girlfriend pointed out apropos the brevity of their romance: “There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get. But, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

Just a couple of weeks ago, marked the celebration of Jesus’ triumphal entry to Jerusalem, then as ordained, his death and resurrection. In my own way, it mirrors my successful entry and transition into the promised world of retirement.

In this excursion into an unfamiliar realm, I’m not counting on any infinity, or unnumbered days, only a safe seamless passage, a joyful second becoming, maybe a coming home again.

Within a week after that fateful entrance, Jesus went on a dizzying freefall. And it all culminated when he was hung on the cross and died as he wrestled with the thought: “Eli Eli lama sabachthani!”

But the passion of Christ did not end in his crucifixion. He was not forsaken. After he was entombed — the rock that sealed his tomb rolled over to reveal He has resurrected.

All this happened within the limited, numbered days of a week, just three days after–yet it ushered in an infinity of love.

As I settle into retirement, I do not want to be beholden to a calendar. I dare not count the days. I’d probably just sit back, sleep, “perchance to dream” and just allow myself to drown in the infinity of God’s grace.

My life is not forever.  That’s a given I will not forget in an instant. But in its expectedly short span, I’m thankful I have had the joy of experiencing a preview of heavenly infinity–in the mundane fractional minutes of everyday.

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