"Parang Kailan Lang": The Ultimate Musings of a Birthday Boy at 45

 

August 18, 2026.

Forty-five. Apatnapu't lima. Kwarentay-singko.

Ang hirap sabihin kahit anong lengguwahe. Ang bilis pakinggan. At kung tutuusin, parang kailan lang.

Parang kailan lang, bata pa ako—walang iniisip na bills, deadlines, responsibilities, at kung ano-ano pang komplikasyon ng pagiging adult. Ang mundo noon ay maliit lang: bahay, eskwelahan, mga kaibigan, laruan, at mga pangarap na hindi pa natin alam kung paano magiging realidad.

Pero somehow, 45 years passed. Pffttt, in just a blink of an eye, here we are!

At habang papalapit ang birthday ko, napapaisip ako: Saan napunta ang mga taon?

Siguro, nasa mga alaala.

1. Parang kailan lang, naaalala ko pa ang unang haircut ko. ✂️

Hindi ko man maalala ang bawat detalye, naaalala ko ang feeling ng pagiging maliit na bata—nakaupo sa barber chair, nakatingin sa salamin, at hindi pa lubos na nauunawaan kung bakit kailangang gupitan ang buhok. Ang alam ko lang noon, may gunting, suklay, electric clipper, at si Mang Inciong na seryosong-seryoso sa trabaho niya. At habang ginagawa niya ang kanyang masterpiece, wala pa akong kamuwang-muwang sa mga kakaibang dekorasyon sa barberya. Sa paligid, may mga lumang kalendaryo at poster na medyo “pang-adult” ang dating—mga larawang siguradong hindi naman para sa mga batang gaya ko. 😅 Bata pa ako noon. Ang mundo ko ay simpleng-simple lang. Ang concern ko lang ay kung magiging bagay ba sa akin ang bagong gupit at kung makakauwi ba akong hindi mukhang “napagtripan ng gunting.” Hindi ko pa naiintindihan kung bakit may mga ganoong larawan sa barberya. Ngayon, kapag naaalala ko iyon, napapangiti na lang ako. Ahhh… kaya pala tahimik ang mga matatandang lalaking nagpapagupit noon. 😂 Siguro, habang hinihintay nilang matapos ang kanilang gupit, may sarili silang dahilan kung bakit interesting ang mga dekorasyon sa dingding. Samantalang ako, inosenteng bata lang na nakaupo sa barber chair, walang ibang iniisip kundi ang buhok kong unti-unting nahuhulog sa sahig. Funny how childhood memories work. Noong bata tayo, may mga bagay sa paligid natin na hindi natin naiintindihan. Years later, kapag binalikan natin, saka natin napagtatanto ang mga maliliit na detalye na dati ay wala lang sa atin. That little boy had absolutely no idea that one day, he would remember not only his first haircut, but also the strange little world inside Mang Inciong's barbershop. At higit sa lahat, hindi niya alam na darating ang panahon na magiging 45 years old na siya at matatawa na lang kapag naaalala ang mga “decorations” na dati ay wala siyang kamuwang-muwang kung bakit naroon. 😂 Parang kailan lang.

2. Parang kailan lang, naaalala ko pa ang unang pagpasok ko sa eskwelahan. 🏫

At oo, napakaiyakin ko noon. As in, parang may sarili akong soundtrack ng pag-iyak. 😂 Naaalala ko pa ang unang pagpasok ko sa classroom. Everything felt unfamiliar—the room, the chairs, the blackboard, the teacher, at higit sa lahat, ang mga batang hindi ko naman kilala. Sa paningin ko noon, parang lahat sila ay potential enemies. Hindi ko sila kilala, pero sa isip ko, baka mamaya aawayin ako, kukuhanan ako ng laruan, o mas malala—aagawin ang baon ko! 😂 May kakaibang childhood paranoia ako noon na kapag wala ang mga magulang ko, kailangan kong maging alerto. Parang survival mode agad. “Sino ang mga batang ito? Kaibigan ba sila o kalaban? Bakit sila nandito? May balak ba silang kunin ang baon ko?” The classroom wasn't just a classroom for me; it felt like unexplored territory. At ang teacher? Parang siya ang commander ng lugar na iyon. Meanwhile, ako naman, naka-ready na ang luha. Nang umalis ang mga magulang ko, doon na nagsimula ang drama. Hindi iyong simpleng “Ma, huwag ka munang umalis.” Hindi. Yung iyak na parang may malaking trahedyang nangyari. Yung tipong feeling ko, iniwan na ako ng buong mundo. 😂 Habang ang ibang mga bata ay marahil curious sa bagong classroom, ako naman ay probably thinking, “Babalikan pa kaya nila ako? Makakauwi pa kaya ako? Paano kung dito na talaga ako tumira?” At siyempre, may isa pang napakahalagang concern: “Paano ko poprotektahan ang baon ko?” Because in my little childhood imagination, the biggest danger inside the classroom wasn't mathematics, spelling, or recitation. It was the possibility that somebody might steal my precious Magnolia Chocolait. Kaya siguro ang unang araw ko sa school ay hindi lesson tungkol sa alphabet. It was a lesson about trust issues. 😂 Habang umiiyak ako, siguro iniisip ng mga kaklase ko, “Bakit umiiyak 'to?” At baka may isa pang bata na tahimik lang na nakatingin sa akin habang iniisip, “Hindi ko naman kukunin ang baon mo, kuya.” 😂 Looking back now, nakakatawa isipin kung gaano kaliit ang mundo ng isang bata. A classroom could feel like an entire universe. A stranger could feel like an enemy. And being separated from your parents for a few hours could feel like the longest goodbye in the world. I remember that childhood fear of being left behind. Kung alam ko lang noon na ang school was only the beginning—that life would eventually bring much bigger classrooms, bigger challenges, and much harder goodbyes—perhaps I would have cried a little less. Or maybe not. Baka iyakin talaga ako. 😂 Pero habang tumatanda ako, naiintindihan ko na rin kung bakit ganoon ako noon. I was just a little boy entering a world I didn't understand yet. Hindi ko alam na ang ilan sa mga strangers na kinatatakutan ko noon ay magiging kaibigan ko rin. Hindi ko alam na may mga taong makikilala ko sa paglipas ng panahon na magiging mahalagang bahagi ng kuwento ng buhay ko. At hindi ko rin alam na ang batang takot na maiwan mag-isa ay balang araw matututong harapin ang buhay nang mag-isa. Ang nakakatawa, kung makikita ako ng batang iyon ngayon, baka siya naman ang matakot sa akin. “Sino 'yang matandang lalaki?” 😂 At sasabihin ko sa kanya, “Ako 'yan. Ikaw 'yan—45 years from now.” Then maybe I would tell him, “Huwag kang matakot. Hindi lahat ng tao ay aagaw ng baon mo. At hindi lahat ng aalis ay tuluyang mawawala.” Because life eventually teaches us that some goodbyes are temporary, some are permanent, and some simply open the door to another chapter. But that first day in school? I will always remember it—the crying, the fear, the unfamiliar faces, the imagined enemies, and that precious baon I was absolutely convinced someone would steal. Parang kailan lang.

3. Parang kailan lang, naglalaro lang tayo buong araw. 🤾

Walang cellphone. Walang social media. Walang notifications. Walang internet na kailangang i-check every few minutes. Ang pinakamalaking problema noon ay kung sino ang kasama sa laro, kung sino ang magiging taya, at kung kailan tayo tatawagin ng nanay para umuwi. Laro, laboy, laro. Iyon ang routine ng pagkabata. Gigising sa umaga, kakain, lalabas ng bahay, hahanapin ang mga kalaro, at kapag nagsama-sama na ang barkada, parang automatic na nagsisimula ang isang buong araw ng adventure. Lahat ata ng larong pambatang Pinoy ay naranasan ko, kaya masasabi kong sulit na sulit ang aking kabataan. Mula sa mataya-taya, kung saan ang bilis ng paa ang puhunan at ang pagiging taya ay parang pinakamalaking malas na puwedeng mangyari, hanggang sa teks, na minsan ay mas seryoso pa ang laban kaysa sa mga adult na naglalaro ng cards. Naranasan ko rin ang langit-lupa-impiyerno, kung saan kailangan mong mag-isip kung saan ligtas na tatapakan habang iniiwasan ang taya. May yoyo, holen, tau-tauhan, luksong-baka, sipa, at siyempre, ang hula-hula hoop na kahit hindi naman talaga ako expert, pinatos ko rin. 😂 At kung akala ko noon kumpleto na ang childhood experience ko, pati ang Monkey-Monkey Anabelle ay hindi ko pinalampas. Basta may mga batang naglalaro sa labas, kasama ako. Wala namang enrollment fee, walang membership card, at lalong walang tutorial sa YouTube. You simply learned by watching the other kids. Kapag marunong sila, matututo ka rin. Kapag nadapa ka, tatawa ka muna, tapos lalaro ulit. Kapag natalo ka, next game. Kapag ikaw ang taya, tatakbo ka nang buong lakas na parang may Olympic gold medal na naghihintay sa finish line. 😂 Minsan, ang laro nauuwi sa pagtatalo—“Hindi ako taya!”, “Nahawakan ka!”, “Hindi counted 'yon!”—pero makalipas ang ilang minuto, magkakalaro ulit kayo na parang walang nangyari. That was the beauty of childhood. We fought, we laughed, we ran, we fell, we got dirty, and we played again. Walang camera na nakatutok sa bawat sandali. Walang selfie. Walang video na kailangang i-post. Walang likes na hinihintay. The memory itself was enough. Minsan, ang pinakaimportanteng signal ng buong araw ay ang sigaw mula sa malayo: “Umuwi ka na!” At doon mo mararamdaman na parang ang bilis naman ng oras. Gusto mo pang maglaro, pero kailangan nang umuwi, maligo, kumain, at matulog. Kinabukasan, uulitin na naman. Looking back now, I realize we didn't know we were living some of the happiest days of our lives. Hindi namin alam na darating ang panahon na ma-mi-miss namin ang mga araw na iyon. Akala natin normal lang ang tumakbo sa kalsada, maglaro hanggang mapagod, humabol sa mga kaibigan, at umuwi na pawis at marumi ang tuhod. Akala natin, ganoon lang talaga ang buhay. We simply called it paglalaro. Pero ngayon, habang papalapit ako sa 45, naiintindihan ko na ang mga simpleng larong iyon ay hindi lang basta laro. They were memories in the making. They taught us friendship, patience, competition, teamwork, imagination, at higit sa lahat, kung paano maging masaya kahit wala kang maraming bagay. Laro, laboy, laro. Kung tutuusin, hindi man marangya ang kabataan namin, punung-puno naman ng kuwento. And if someone asks me today whether I had a good childhood, I don't need to think twice. Oo. Sulit na sulit. Dahil naranasan ko ang kabataang walang screen time limit dahil wala namang screen, walang Wi-Fi password, walang notifications, at walang social media drama. Ang meron lang ay mga kaibigan, mga laruan, malawak na imahinasyon, at sapat na lakas para maglaro hanggang sa tawagin ka ng nanay mo. Parang kailan lang. Kahapon lang, tumatakbo pa tayo sa labas. Ngayon, 45 na ako. And somehow, those little games from childhood are still some of the biggest memories I carry with me.

Five for Fighting - 100 Years

4. Parang kailan lang, first time kong magkaroon ng mga kaibigan sa school. 🧑‍🤝‍🧑👭👫

Parang kailan lang, naaalala ko pa kung paano ako unang nagkaroon ng mga kaibigan sa school. Noong una, halos lahat ng mukha sa classroom ay strangers. Pero habang lumilipas ang mga araw, may mga batang unti-unting naging pamilyar. May mga nakasama ko sa recess, may mga katabi sa upuan, may mga kasabay na maglakad pauwi, at may mga nakalaro pagkatapos ng klase. At bago ko namalayan, hindi na sila strangers—mga kaibigan ko na sila. May mga kaibigang araw-araw mong kasama, sabay kayong kumakain ng baon, naglalaro, nagkukuwentuhan, nagtatawanan, at minsan nagtatalo dahil sa napakaliit na bagay. Minsan, hindi naman kailangan ng malaking dahilan para maging magkaibigan. Isang “Anong baon mo?”, isang “Sali ako,” o simpleng pagsabay sa laro, friendship na agad. 😂 Siyempre, dahil iyakin ako noon at medyo tahimik, malamang mahahanap mo ako sa grupo ng mga good boys with better grades. Lumaki naman tayong hindi pasaway—at that tender age, bago pa tuli, ang pagiging mabait, tahimik, at marunong sumunod sa teacher ay parang unofficial qualification para mapabilang sa barkada. 😂 Nahanay ako sa mga medyo nerd—yung mga batang may maayos na notebook, nakikinig sa teacher, at parang laging alam ang sagot kapag may recitation. Pero kalaunan, aminado naman ako, tinatamad din ako. 😂 Hindi naman sa ayaw ko nang mag-aral; siguro napagtanto ko lang na mas masaya pala ang buhay kapag may konting kalokohan. Kaya unti-unti akong naghanap ng mga kaibigang mas kuwela, mas palabiro, at higit sa lahat, mga taong babagay sa sarili kong trip at laugh trip. Doon ko natutunan na may iba't ibang klase pala ng friendship. May mga kaibigang kasama mo kapag seryoso ang lesson, pero may mga kaibigan ding kasama mo kapag gusto mo lang tumawa nang walang dahilan. May mga taong matino kausap, at may mga taong isang tinginan lang kayo, alam n'yo nang may kalokohang mangyayari. 😂 At siyempre, may mga kaibigang kapag nagsimula nang magkuwentuhan, kahit walang sense ang pinag-uusapan, nagiging nakakatawa pa rin. Those were the friendships that made school life memorable. Hindi naman kailangang laging tungkol sa grades, achievements, o pagiging perfect student. Sometimes, you just needed people who understood your humor, your weird jokes, your little quirks, and your way of having fun. At doon naging mas masaya ang school life ko. From the quiet, crying little boy who was initially afraid that everyone might be his enemy, I slowly became the kid who found his own circle—the friends who could make me laugh, the friends who could tolerate my jokes, and the friends who shared the same kind of kalokohan that made ordinary school days unforgettable. Friendship was simple back then. Hindi namin kailangan ng group chat, Facebook, Messenger, likes, comments, follows, o daily streaks para malaman kung sino ang tunay na kaibigan. Hindi namin kailangang magtanong ng, “Are we still friends?” You just showed up the next day. Kapag nagkasagutan kayo ngayon, bukas magkakasama na naman kayo. Kapag may tampuhan, lilipas din. Kapag may bagong laro, nakakalimutan ang away. 😂 Walang long message na “I feel like our friendship has changed.” Walang seen zone. Walang unfollow. Walang “Active 5 minutes ago” na pag-iisipan mo kung bakit hindi nagre-reply. Ang friendship noon ay physical presence—nandiyan ka, nandiyan ako, laro tayo. And maybe that's what I miss most about those years: the simplicity of finding your people. Hindi mahalaga kung sino ang pinakamagaling, pinakamatalino, o pinakasikat. Ang mahalaga ay may mga taong puwede mong makasama at matawa kahit sa pinakasimpleng bagay. Minsan, ang pinakamagandang memory ay hindi naman isang malaking event. It was simply sitting together during recess, sharing food, laughing at something stupid, or walking home while talking about absolutely nothing. At habang lumalaki tayo, unti-unti ring nagbabago ang definition ng friendship. May mga kaibigang nanatili. May mga kaibigang lumayo dahil nagbago ang school, trabaho, lugar, o buhay. May mga taong dati ay araw-araw mong kasama, pero ngayon, pangalan na lang sa lumang notebook o mukha sa lumang litrato. At may mga kaibigang hindi mo man madalas makita, kapag nagkita kayo pagkatapos ng maraming taon, parang kahapon lang ulit. That is the magic of childhood friendship. Kahit lumipas ang panahon, may bahagi ng pagkakaibigang iyon na hindi tumatanda. Kapag binalikan mo ang mga lumang alaala, maaalala mo ang mga tawanan, mga kalokohan, mga simpleng away, mga larong pinaglabanan ninyo, at mga araw na akala ninyo ay ordinaryo lang. Hindi namin alam noon na gumagawa pala kami ng mga alaala na dadalhin namin hanggang pagtanda. We were simply being kids. We were simply being friends. At ngayon, habang papalapit ako sa 45, napapangiti ako kapag naiisip ko ang batang iyon—iyakin, tahimik, medyo nerd sa simula, pero kalaunan, natutong humanap ng mga taong kapareho ng wavelength at humor. He didn't know how important those friendships would become. He didn't know that some would last for decades, while others would simply remain beautiful memories. But he learned something very important: sometimes, friendship doesn't need a complicated beginning. Sometimes, all it takes is someone saying, “Sali ka?” and another kid answering, “Sige!” And just like that, a friendship begins. Parang kailan lang.

5. Parang kailan lang, high school na tayo. 👦

Parang kailan lang, biglang nagbago ang mundo nang maging high school tayo. Suddenly, everything felt bigger. Mas malaking classroom, mas maraming subjects, mas maraming teachers, mas maraming classmates, mas maraming kaibigan, at siyempre, mas maraming kalokohan. 😂 Kung noong elementarya ang biggest concern natin ay kung sino ang taya sa laro o kung may kukuha ng baon natin, pagdating ng high school, parang may bagong level na ang buhay. May algebra, science, history, English, Filipino at kung anu-ano pang subjects na minsan ay mapapaisip ka kung saan mo naman gagamitin sa totoong buhay. May mga teacher na kinatatakutan natin kapag seryoso ang mukha, may mga teacher na gustong-gusto natin dahil makulit at marunong makisama, at may mga teacher na hanggang ngayon, kapag naaalala natin, automatic na napapangiti tayo. High school was a strange mixture of innocence and growing up. Bata pa rin tayo, pero nagsisimula na tayong magkaroon ng sariling personality, sariling opinion, sariling barkada, at siyempre, sariling mga kalokohan. Dito nagsimula ang mga classroom jokes na paulit-ulit nating pinagtatawanan kahit tayo-tayo lang naman ang nakakaintindi. May mga simpleng tinginan sa classroom na sapat na para mapatawa ang buong barkada. May mga moments na kailangan mong pigilan ang tawa dahil nasa harap ang teacher, pero kapag nagkatinginan kayo ng kaibigan mo, doon na tuluyang nawawala ang self-control. 😂 May mga pagkakataon ding tahimik ang buong classroom dahil may exam, pero may isang kaibigan na gagawa ng kung anong kalokohan at biglang sisirain ang seriousness ng buong room. And somehow, those silly moments became some of the memories we remember most. Siyempre, hindi kumpleto ang high school life kung walang recess at baon. May mga araw na parang mas exciting pa ang lunch break kaysa sa lesson. May sharing ng pagkain, palitan ng snacks, panghihingi ng konti, at minsan, ang baon ay parang community property dahil lahat ay gustong makatikim. 😂 May mga araw din na ang baon mo ay simple lang, pero kapag nakita mong may dalang masarap ang kaibigan mo, biglang nagiging negotiation table ang classroom. “Tikim lang.” “Isa lang.” “Sige na, bukas babawi ako.” At siyempre, may mga taong hanggang ngayon ay hindi pa rin nakakabayad ng utang na isang kagat. 😂 Then there were school programs, intramurals, field trips, Christmas parties, recognition days, class projects, group activities, and those events that felt ordinary at the time but became priceless when viewed from adulthood. Ang mga group project noon ay hindi lang tungkol sa project. It was also about deciding kung kaninong bahay gagawin, sino ang may cartolina, sino ang may Pentel pen, sino ang gagawa ng actual work, at sino ang biglang mawawala kapag deadline na. 😂 There were also those unforgettable school trips where the bus ride itself became part of the adventure. Tawanan, kantahan, kuwentuhan, pagkain, at mga simpleng kalokohan kasama ang barkada. At siyempre, may mga pagkakataon na mas memorable pa ang nangyari sa biyahe kaysa sa mismong destination. High school was also the time when we began discovering ourselves. We started asking questions about who we wanted to become, what we wanted to do, and where we wanted life to take us. May mga pangarap tayong seryoso, may mga pangarap na parang imposible, at may mga pangarap na nagbago rin habang lumalaki tayo. May mga crushes din, siyempre—those innocent teenage feelings that could make a simple classroom seat arrangement feel like a major life event. 😂 Isang “Hi” lang mula sa crush, puwede nang maging highlight ng buong araw. Isang accidental eye contact, puwedeng pag-isipan buong gabi. At kapag nalaman mong may crush din sa iyo, parang may sariling soundtrack ang buhay. High school was messy, funny, dramatic, and beautiful. May tampuhan, may friendship problems, may misunderstandings, may insecurities, may failures, may moments na feeling natin na katapusan na ng mundo dahil mababa ang grade o may problema sa barkada. Pero kinabukasan, pumapasok pa rin tayo. We laughed again. We played again. We learned again. We moved on. And perhaps that was the beauty of being young—we didn't know how temporary everything was. Akala natin forever ang classroom. Akala natin forever ang barkada. Akala natin palaging magkakasama ang mga taong nakikita natin araw-araw. We didn't realize that one day, graduation would come and suddenly, everyone would go their separate ways. May pupunta sa college. May magtatrabaho. May lilipat ng lugar. May mawawala sa communication. At may mga taong akala natin ay bahagi ng buhay natin forever, pero magiging bahagi na lang pala ng isang chapter. Kaya ngayon, kapag naaalala ko ang high school years, hindi lang grades o subjects ang pumapasok sa isip ko. I remember the laughter. The noise. The classrooms. The teachers. The barkada. The jokes. The baon. The school programs. The field trips. The little dramas. The silly arguments. The friendships. The dreams. At higit sa lahat, naaalala ko ang batang ako na hindi pa alam kung gaano kabilis lilipas ang lahat. Hindi natin alam na balang araw, mami-miss natin ang mga bagay na minsan ay gusto lang nating matapos. Minsan gusto nating matapos ang klase. Gusto nating matapos ang exams. Gusto nating matapos ang school year. Gusto nating makagraduate agad para maging malaya. But adulthood teaches you a funny lesson: sometimes, you spend your younger years wishing for the future, only to spend your older years wishing you could visit the past for just one afternoon. If I could go back, I wouldn't change the grades, the mistakes, the awkward moments, or even the silly teenage drama. I would simply sit there for a little longer. Laugh a little louder. Stay with the barkada a little longer. Because now I understand what that younger version of me didn't know: those ordinary high school days were never ordinary at all. They were the days we were quietly creating the memories we would one day miss. Parang kailan lang, nasa classroom lang tayo, naghihintay ng recess, nagtatawanan sa isang corny joke, at iniisip kung kailan matatapos ang school day. Ngayon, 45 na ako, and those days are decades behind me. But somehow, when I close my eyes, I can still hear the laughter. Parang kailan lang.

6. Parang kailan lang, excited tayo sa graduation. 👨‍🎓👩‍🎓

Parang kailan lang, excited na excited tayo sa graduation. I remember that feeling of wearing the graduation toga, fixing ourselves for the ceremony, taking pictures with classmates, teachers, and family, and hearing our names being called one by one. Graduation felt like the beginning of the world. Para bang pagkatapos ng araw na iyon, biglang magbubukas ang isang napakalaking pinto at nasa labas na ang buong mundo, naghihintay sa atin. We thought we had everything figured out. May mga pangarap tayo, may mga plano, at may innocent belief tayo na somehow, life would follow the path we imagined. Akala natin, once we graduate, everything will naturally fall into place. Makakapag-college tayo, makakahanap ng trabaho, magkakaroon ng magandang career, matutupad ang mga pangarap, at magiging exactly the person we imagined ourselves to be. Simple lang ang formula sa isip natin noon: graduate, work, succeed, repeat. 😂 Wala pa tayong ideya na ang totoong buhay pala ay walang syllabus, walang reviewer, at lalong walang teacher na puwedeng tanungin kung ano ang tamang sagot. During graduation, we were so focused on moving forward that we didn't realize we were also saying goodbye. Goodbye to the classroom. Goodbye to the daily routine. Goodbye to seeing the same faces every morning. Goodbye to the teachers who sometimes annoyed us but whom we would eventually miss. Goodbye to those ordinary school days that we thought would always be there. May mga kaibigan tayong nangako, “Magkikita pa rin tayo.” May mga nagsabing, “Tuloy pa rin ang barkada.” At noong panahong iyon, naniniwala talaga tayo. Pero adulthood has a funny way of changing schedules, priorities, places, and even people. Unti-unting may nag-college sa ibang lugar. May nagtrabaho. May nagkaroon ng sariling pamilya. May lumipat. May nawala sa communication. At bago mo mapansin, iyong barkadang halos araw-araw mong kasama noon ay kailangan mo nang hanapin sa social media para malaman kung nasaan na sila. 😂 Graduation also gave us that strange feeling of being both excited and scared. Excited dahil finally, may bagong chapter. Scared dahil hindi natin alam kung ano ang nasa next page. We were standing at the edge of something we couldn't see yet. We wanted freedom, but we didn't know that freedom also came with responsibility. We wanted to become adults, but we didn't understand how complicated adulthood could be. We wanted to make our own decisions, but we didn't realize how often we would second-guess those decisions later. Then adulthood came. At doon natin unti-unting nalaman na hindi pala automatic ang success. Hindi lahat ng plano ay natutupad sa tamang edad. Hindi lahat ng pangarap ay nangyayari exactly the way we imagined. May detours. May delays. May failures. May unexpected opportunities. May mga pintuang akala natin para sa atin pero hindi pala. At may mga pintuang hindi natin pinansin noon na pala ang tamang daan. There were moments when I probably wondered, “Ito na ba talaga ang adulthood?” 😂 Because nobody warned us about bills, deadlines, responsibilities, paperwork, difficult decisions, and those moments when you suddenly realize that you are now the person responsible for yourself. Wala nang teacher na magre-remind na may assignment ka. Wala nang bell na magsasabing recess na. Wala nang parents na laging nandiyan para ayusin ang lahat. Suddenly, the world expects you to know what you're doing—even when deep inside, you're still trying to figure it out. But maybe that is what growing up really means. You don't necessarily become someone who has all the answers. You become someone who learns how to keep moving even when you don't have them. Looking back at graduation from the perspective of 45 years old, I now understand that it wasn't really the beginning of the world. It was the beginning of my own journey into discovering what the world really was. The dreams we had back then may have changed, but they were important because they gave us somewhere to start. Some dreams came true. Some didn't. Some were replaced by dreams we never imagined when we were younger. And that's okay. Life didn't follow the exact path I imagined—and maybe that's the beauty of it. If I could talk to that younger version of myself standing there in his graduation clothes, excited and nervous about the future, I would tell him: “Enjoy this moment. Huwag kang masyadong magmadali. Hindi mo kailangang malaman agad kung saan ka pupunta. You have plenty of time to figure things out.” I would tell him to look around one more time. Remember the faces. Remember the laughter. Remember the feeling of being young and believing that anything was possible. Because one day, decades later, he would look back at that graduation photo and realize how incredibly young he was. He thought he was entering the real world. He didn't know that the real world would teach him more lessons than any classroom ever could. Parang kailan lang, graduation day. Hawak natin ang diploma, puno ng pangarap, excited sa kinabukasan, at akala natin alam na natin ang direction ng buhay. Ngayon, 45 na ako. And I finally understand that sometimes, the greatest adventure isn't following the plan you made when you were young. It is learning to appreciate the life that happened while you were busy planning the life you thought you wanted.

Green Day - Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)

7. Parang kailan lang, mga batang nangangarap tayo. 😶‍🌫️

Parang kailan lang, mga batang nangangarap tayo. Kapag tinanong tayo noon kung ano ang gusto nating maging paglaki, ang bilis nating sumagot. May gustong maging doktor, teacher, engineer, pilot, police officer, businessman, artista, athlete, o kung anong profession na mukhang exciting sa murang isip natin. May mga pangarap tayong malalaki, at ang maganda pa, wala tayong konsepto noon kung gaano kahirap abutin ang mga ito. We simply dreamed. Wala pang bills, responsibilities, failures, at disappointments na magtuturo sa atin kung gaano ka-komplikado ang buhay. Para sa atin noon, kapag gusto natin, puwede tayong maging iyon. Simple as that. Minsan, habang nakahiga tayo sa gabi, iniisip natin ang magiging future natin. Ano kaya ang magiging trabaho natin? Saan kaya tayo titira? Magkakaroon kaya tayo ng sariling bahay? Makakapunta kaya tayo sa ibang lugar? Magiging successful kaya tayo? At dahil bata pa tayo, parang ang layo ng future. Parang napakaraming oras para gawin ang lahat. Thirty, forty, fifty? Parang napakatanda na ng mga edad na iyon. Ngayon, 45 na ako, at nakakatawang isipin na noon, ang 45 ay parang napakalayong future. 😂 Some dreams happened. Some disappeared. Some changed completely. At may mga pangarap na hanggang ngayon ay tahimik pa ring naghihintay. May mga pangarap na dati ay akala natin iyon na talaga ang gusto natin, pero habang tumatanda tayo, napagtanto nating iba pala ang hinahanap natin. May mga pangarap na hindi natupad dahil hindi natin kayang ipaglaban. May mga pangarap na hindi natupad dahil may ibang direksyong pinili ang buhay. At may mga pangarap na hindi naman talaga nawala—naantala lang. Sometimes life puts our dreams on hold while we deal with things we never expected to face. And sometimes, we ourselves change so much that the dream we once chased no longer feels like home. Hindi ibig sabihin noon na nabigo tayo. It simply means we grew. The person who dreamed at 10 is not exactly the same person who dreamed at 20. The person who dreamed at 20 is not exactly the same person who stands here at 45. Every experience changes the way we see success, happiness, and what truly matters. Noong bata tayo, baka ang definition natin ng success ay magkaroon ng magandang trabaho, malaking bahay, maraming pera, o maging sikat. Habang tumatanda, mas naiintindihan natin na success can also mean having peace of mind, waking up without regret, having people who genuinely care about you, being able to enjoy simple things, and having the freedom to live life according to your own values. The definition of a dream changes when the dreamer changes. At 45, I no longer look at my younger dreams and ask, “Bakit hindi ko nakuha lahat?” Mas madalas ko nang itanong, “Ano pa ang gusto kong maranasan?” Because perhaps growing older isn't about completing a checklist of everything we wanted when we were young. It is about discovering new things worth dreaming about. May mga pangarap na hindi na para sa batang ako. They belong to the person I am today. And maybe there are still dreams waiting for me that I haven't even imagined yet. That's the beautiful thing about life: you are never too old to have a new dream. Hindi kailangang pareho ang pangarap mo noong bata ka at ang pangarap mo ngayon. Hindi kailangang patunayan mo sa mundo na natupad mo ang lahat ng sinabi mong gusto mong maging noong 10 years old ka. Life is not an examination where you get a failing grade because you changed your answer. Sometimes, changing your answer means you finally understand the question. Looking back, I feel grateful for that younger version of me who dreamed without fear. He taught me something that I hope I never lose—the ability to imagine that something better could exist. Kahit hindi lahat ng pangarap niya ay natupad, he gave me the courage to keep dreaming. And perhaps that is enough. Some dreams became memories. Some became lessons. Some became completely different dreams. And some are still quietly waiting for their turn. Maybe that's what growing older really means—not giving up on dreams, but learning that dreams can change as we change. At 45, I am not closing the door on my dreams. I am simply opening another one. Mas marami na akong alam tungkol sa buhay, mas marami na akong pinagdaanan, at mas malinaw na sa akin na hindi kailangang madaliin ang lahat. There is still time to learn, to create, to travel, to laugh, to write, to love life, and to experience things I haven't experienced yet. So if that little boy who once dreamed of becoming something amazing could see me now, I hope he wouldn't be disappointed. I would tell him, “Hindi man eksaktong nangyari ang lahat ng pinangarap mo, tingnan mo—nandito pa rin tayo. At marami pa tayong puwedeng pangarapin.” Because maybe the greatest dream isn't becoming the person you imagined when you were young. Maybe it is becoming someone your younger self would be proud to meet. Parang kailan lang, mga batang nangangarap tayo. And now, at 45, I realize that the little boy who dreamed back then is still somewhere inside me—still curious, still hopeful, and still quietly asking, “Ano kaya ang susunod?”

8. Parang kailan lang, 20s na ako. 🏀⛹️

Parang kailan lang, nasa 20s na ako. I was younger, more fearless, and probably more convinced that I had plenty of time. Twenty felt old. Thirty seemed so far away. Forty sounded like something that belonged to another generation. And now... I'm looking at 45. Funny how time changes the meaning of numbers. Noong bata tayo, ang 20 ay parang adult na adult na. Kapag may nakita tayong 20-year-old noon, parang ang tanda na niya. Pero nang dumating ang sarili nating 20s, doon natin napagtanto na bata pa pala talaga tayo. And for me, those years were also some of my most athletic years. Napakalakas pa ng katawan natin noon. Ang energy, ang bilis, ang stamina—parang walang katapusan. One of my biggest loves in sports was, and probably always will be, basketball. Hindi naman ako iyong tipong superstar o pinakamagaling sa court, pero aminado ako, may angas ang laro ko noon. 😂 Lalo na noong teenage years ko, around 15 years old, feeling ko kaya kong makipagsabayan kahit kanino. At that age, basketball wasn't just a sport. It was part of everyday life. Kapag may bakanteng oras, laro. Kapag may mga kalaro sa labas, maglaro. Kapag may court at may bola, automatic may game. At ang paborito ko talaga noon? Fastbreak. I loved running the floor. Takbo sa depensa, takbo pabalik sa offense, then takbo ulit. Parang may built-in turbo ang katawan. 😂 Kaya kong tumakbo nang paulit-ulit nang hindi agad hinihingal nang todo. The feeling of sprinting down the court, receiving the ball, and going straight for the basket was something I genuinely enjoyed. Hindi man ako iyong pinaka-skilled na player, I loved playing with energy. At hindi lang sa pagtakbo ako umaasa. Mahilig din akong kumuha ng rebound—even against players bigger than me. Kapag nakita kong may bola sa ere, automatic ang mindset: “Akin 'yan!” 😂 Minsan, hindi naman talaga akin, pero susubukan ko pa rin. There was also something satisfying about being a spot-up shooter. Kapag nasa tamang puwesto ako at napunta sa akin ang bola, ready na agad ang kamay. Walang masyadong dribble-dribble. Catch, set, shoot. Kapag pumasok, ang sarap ng feeling. Kapag hindi pumasok, kunwari hindi ko sinadya. 😂 Pero kung may isang bahagi ng basketball na talagang gustong-gusto ko, iyon ay defense. Especially stealing the ball during an inbound play. I loved that moment when the opponent was trying to find someone to pass to, and I would try to anticipate the pass, make the steal, and suddenly have a clear path to the basket. Then—free myself for a no-contested layup. Walang fancy crossover. Walang complicated move. Basta steal, takbo, layup. Two points. 😂 At 15, those little moments felt like NBA highlights happening in my own neighborhood. Of course, looking back now, I know I wasn't exactly an NBA prospect. 😂 Pero iyon ang magic ng pagiging bata at teenager. You don't need to be the best player in the world. You just need a basketball, a court, some friends, and enough confidence to believe that for the next few hours, you can be anything. We played until our shirts were soaked with sweat. We ran until our legs were tired. We argued over fouls. We debated whether the shot was really a three-pointer. We celebrated impossible shots like they were championship-winning baskets. And after the game, we would simply go home, eat, rest, and do it all over again another day. No fitness tracker. No sports watch. No performance statistics. We didn't know our heart rate, calories burned, vertical jump, or running speed. Ang alam lang natin ay kaya pa nating tumakbo. 😂 And that was enough. As I moved into my 20s, I still carried that athletic energy. But slowly, life began to change. Responsibilities became bigger. Time became more limited. The body that once seemed almost indestructible started reminding us that it had limits. The fast break became a memory. The endless running became something I could only remember. And eventually, the teenager who could chase a basketball all afternoon became a 45-year-old man looking back at old memories and thinking, “Grabe, kaya ko pala talagang tumakbo nang ganoon katagal noon.” 😂 But I don't look back at those years with sadness. I look back with gratitude. Because those athletic years taught me something beyond basketball. They taught me the joy of movement, the excitement of competition, the importance of teamwork, and the simple happiness of doing something you genuinely love. And maybe that's why basketball remains special to me. It wasn't just about winning games. It was about being young. It was about friendship. It was about freedom. It was about feeling like the entire afternoon belonged to you. Twenty felt old. Thirty seemed so far away. Forty sounded like something that belonged to another generation. And now, I'm looking at 45. The body may not move exactly like it did at 15 or 20, but the memories are still incredibly alive. Somewhere inside this 45-year-old version of me is still that teenager standing on a basketball court, waiting for the inbound pass, ready to make a steal, sprint down the court, and finish an uncontested layup. 😂 Parang kailan lang. The years may have changed my age, but they haven't erased the kid who loved to play. And maybe that's one of the beautiful things about growing older: the body remembers the years, but the heart remembers how it felt to be young.

9. Parang kailan lang, nasa 30s ako. 🧑‍🏫

Parang kailan lang, nasa 30s ako. The 30s were a different chapter of my life—mas maraming responsibilities, mas maraming realizations, mas maraming experiences, at siyempre, mas marami ring tanong tungkol sa buhay. Am I where I'm supposed to be? Did I make the right choices? What happens next? Noong nasa 20s ako, parang ang dami pang oras para malaman kung saan ako pupunta. Pero pagdating ng 30s, unti-unti mong mararamdaman na hindi pala forever ang panahon. You begin to look at your life differently. Mas iniisip mo na ang career, stability, future, at kung tama ba talaga ang direksyong tinatahak mo. At sa chapter na iyon ng buhay ko, may isang unexpected turn na hindi ko rin naman planado. I originally studied with the idea of using my knowledge in computers—being a Computer Programmer or troubleshooter, working with technology and applying what I had learned. Pero somehow, life had a different plan for me. Instead of simply using what I learned from my course for myself, I ended up teaching it to other people. Napunta ako sa education, at naging college instructor ako na nagtuturo ng computer-related subjects. At kung tutuusin, malaking pagbabago iyon. From learning about computers myself, I suddenly found myself standing in front of a classroom, trying to explain those concepts to students who were also trying to understand them. From student to teacher. I spent seven years in the teaching institution, and those seven years taught me more than what was written in any textbook. Doon ko nalaman na ang pagtuturo ay hindi lang pala tungkol sa subject matter. It is about patience. It is about communication. It is about understanding that not every student learns at the same pace. At higit sa lahat, it is about giving a part of yourself every time you stand in front of a classroom. At masasabi kong mas mahirap talaga ang pagtuturo kaysa sa iniisip ng maraming tao. Hindi lang naman pagtuturo ang trabaho ng isang teacher. In my case, parang buong school department ang naging playground ko. 😂 Aside from teaching, may administrative work din. May mga documents, coordination, preparation, at kung anu-anong kailangang tapusin. At dahil marunong ako sa computers at graphics, napunta rin sa akin ang mga bagay na may kinalaman sa design. Gumawa ako ng graphics para sa enrollment, nag-design ng school IDs, at pati uniform designs para sa high school, elementary, at college. So basically, kung may computer, design, printer, event, o kailangang ayusin na may kinalaman sa technology, parang automatic na may possibility na mapunta sa akin. 😂 At hindi pa doon natatapos. Kapag may special events ang school, naging DJ din ako. Imagine that transition: one moment you're teaching computer subjects, the next you're working on graphics, then designing school materials, then suddenly you're behind the sound system playing music for a school event. 😂 Teacher by profession, computer person by training, graphic designer by necessity, admin staff by circumstance, and DJ by special assignment. Looking back, nakakatuwa siyang isipin, pero noong ginagawa ko lahat iyon, hindi siya nakakatawa. Nakakapagod talaga. Sobrang paggamit ang oras mo. Hindi natatapos ang trabaho kapag natatapos ang klase. Pagkatapos ng teaching, may administrative tasks pa. May designs. May deadlines. May school events. May mga bagay na kailangang tapusin bago ka makauwi. At minsan, kapag nasa bahay ka na, pagod na ang katawan mo pero tumatakbo pa rin ang utak mo dahil iniisip mo kung ano pa ang kailangang gawin kinabukasan. That was one of the biggest lessons my 30s gave me: sometimes, your job is not just the title written on your employment record. It becomes all the things people discover you can do. Kapag marunong ka, dagdag trabaho. 😂 At dahil willing kang tumulong ,minsan mas lalo kang nabibigyan ng trabaho. But despite the exhaustion, I learned a lot during those seven years. I learned how to speak in front of people. I learned how to explain complicated things in a simple way. I learned how to deal with different personalities. I learned how to work under pressure. I learned how to create things from scratch. And perhaps most importantly, I learned how to be responsible not only for my own work, but sometimes for the experience and learning of other people. Eventually, another unexpected chapter came. I entered the BPO industry. It was a completely different environment. Compared with teaching, there were things about BPO work that felt more straightforward. You work your shift, do your responsibilities, finish your tasks, and eventually, uwi ka na. But of course, the trade-off was the schedule. Night shifts. Rotating shifts. Changing body clocks. The kind of work where physically, you may not be carrying school equipment or running around organizing events, but the shifting schedule can still pumatay ng katawan sa puyat at pagbabago-bago ng oras ng trabaho. 😂 So in a strange way, I went from one kind of exhaustion to another. Teaching exhausted my time; BPO exhausted my body clock. One required almost every extra minute of your day, while the other could leave you fighting against sleep and trying to convince your body that 2 a.m. was somehow a normal working hour. 😂 But both chapters became part of who I am. The teacher years taught me patience, communication, creativity, and responsibility. The BPO years taught me adaptability, discipline, resilience, and how to function even when your schedule doesn't cooperate with your biological clock. And somewhere between those two careers, I realized something important: life doesn't always follow the career path you originally imagined. Sometimes, you study one thing and end up doing another. Sometimes, the skills you thought would lead you in one direction become the reason you discover another path. Sometimes, you think you're taking a detour, only to realize years later that the detour was part of the journey. The 30s also taught me that there are questions that don't have immediate answers. Am I where I'm supposed to be? Did I make the right choices? What happens next? Maybe the answer to all of them is simply: keep going. You don't always have to know exactly where you're headed. Sometimes, you just need to take the next step, learn from what happens, and keep moving. Looking back now at 45, I can see that the man I was in my 30s was still figuring things out. He was working, learning, getting tired, adapting, changing direction, and trying to make sense of life. He didn't have everything figured out—and that's okay. None of us really do. What matters is that he kept going. He kept learning. He kept working. He kept finding ways to use what he knew. And eventually, all those seemingly unrelated experiences—computer programming, troubleshooting, teaching, administration, graphic design, school events, DJ work, and BPO—became pieces of one bigger story. A story that I didn't know I was writing while I was living it. Parang kailan lang, nasa 30s ako, busy sa trabaho, pagod, puyat, at wondering what the future would look like. Ngayon, 45 na ako, and I can finally look back and say: Maybe I wasn't lost. Maybe I was simply taking the long way toward becoming the person I am today. And sometimes, that's what growing older really means—you stop asking whether every decision was perfect and start appreciating what every decision taught you. Sometimes, you simply have to keep going.

10. Parang kailan lang, marami pa akong kasama na ngayon ay alaala na lang. 👩‍🍼👵💓

Parang kailan lang, marami pa akong kasama na ngayon ay alaala na lang. As the years pass, you begin to understand that growing older isn't only about adding birthdays. It is also about losing people, remembering people, and carrying pieces of them with you. Habang nadadagdagan ang edad natin, hindi lang pala mga taon ang nadadagdag. May mga taong unti-unting nawawala sa paligid natin. May mga kaibigang lumayo, may mga taong minsan ay araw-araw nating nakikita pero ngayon ay matagal na nating hindi nakakasama, at may mga minamahal na hindi na natin kailanman makakasama physically. Some people became chapters. Some became memories. Some remain forever in the heart. At kung may isang pagkawala na masasabi kong isa sa pinakamabigat at pinakamasakit na nangyari sa buong buhay ko, iyon ay ang pagkawala ng isang nanay na nagmahal sa akin nang walang kondisyon. There are some kinds of pain that you eventually learn to live with, but you never really stop missing the person. I miss my mother so much. And this is my third birthday without her. Three birthdays have passed since she was no longer here to celebrate with us, and yet there are moments when it still feels impossible to believe that she won't suddenly appear, call my name, ask how I am, or simply be there the way she had always been. For most of my life, she was simply part of the picture. From my earliest memories until I was 43, she was there. Hindi ko kailangang isipin kung nandiyan ba si Nanay. She was simply a permanent character in the story of our family. From childhood to adolescence, from school days to adulthood, she was there through so many versions of me. She saw me grow up. She saw my successes, my mistakes, my frustrations, my happiness, and all the ordinary days in between. She loved us without limits. And because she had always been there, perhaps I never fully understood how enormous her presence was until she was gone. That's the strange thing about losing someone who has been part of your entire life. You don't just lose a person. You lose a piece of the world you have always known. When Nanay was still here, I could always say, “Nandiyan si Nanay.” There was comfort in that sentence. There was security in knowing that somewhere in this world, there was a mother who loved us. Then one day, that certainty disappeared. And I remember thinking that perhaps my biggest fear had already happened. Sabi ko nga noon, all my fears are gone. Because the biggest fear already happened in my life—the fear of losing my mother. Hindi dahil wala na akong ibang kinatatakutan sa buhay, kundi dahil may isang klase ng takot na hindi mo maiintindihan hangga't hindi mo mismo nararanasan. Losing the person who had been there from the beginning changes the way you look at everything. Suddenly, birthdays feel different. Holidays feel different. Family gatherings feel different. Even ordinary moments can carry a strange emptiness because someone is missing from the picture. And sometimes, grief doesn't arrive as tears. Sometimes it arrives quietly. It comes when you hear an old song. When you see something she used to like. When you remember a familiar phrase. When you pass a place connected to a memory. When you see an old photograph and suddenly realize how much you would give just to have one more ordinary day together. One more conversation. One more meal. One more laugh. One more “Anak.” We often think we want one more grand moment, but when someone is gone, what we really miss are the ordinary moments we once took for granted. The simple presence. The everyday conversations. The feeling that someone is there. That is what I miss about Nanay. I miss her not only during special occasions but also during the most ordinary days. And perhaps that is how I know how deeply she became part of my life. She wasn't just present during the important moments. She was present in everything. Never in our lives was Nanay absent from our story. From the time I was born until I was 43, she was part of the journey. She was there while we were growing up, while we were becoming who we are, while we were making mistakes, while we were trying to find our way. She was one of the constants in a life where almost everything else eventually changed. And now, at 45, I realize how precious that kind of love was. I super love our Nanay so much. Maybe there are things I wasn't able to say enough while she was here. Maybe there were moments when I was too busy with life to fully appreciate what I had. That's something many of us learn too late—that the people who love us unconditionally can become so familiar that we sometimes forget just how extraordinary their presence is. But I hope she knew. I hope she felt how much she meant to me. I hope she knew that behind all the ordinary days, all the jokes, all the conversations, all the little moments, there was a son who loved his mother deeply. And now, when I celebrate another birthday, I know that one of the most important parts of my life will always be connected to her. My birthdays will always carry a little bit of Nanay in them. Because she was there for so many of them. She saw the little boy become a teenager, the teenager become a young man, and the young man become the person writing these words at 45. She may no longer be physically here, but she is still part of my story. Her love is still part of who I am. Her memories are still part of our family. And perhaps that is the closest thing we have to keeping someone forever: we carry them with us. We carry their lessons, their love, their stories, their laughter, their sacrifices, and the memories they left behind. As the years pass, I may continue to add birthdays, but I will also continue to carry the people who helped make those years meaningful. Some became chapters. Some became memories. Some became stories we tell again and again. And some, like Nanay, became part of us so deeply that even when they are no longer physically beside us, they never really leave the story. So on this 45th birthday, I don't want to remember Nanay only with sadness. I want to remember her with gratitude. Gratitude that I was given 43 years of having a mother who loved us without limits. Gratitude for every ordinary day she was there. Gratitude for every memory. Gratitude for the love that continues even after goodbye. Three birthdays without her, but a lifetime of memories with her. And if there is one thing I know now, it is this: growing older means learning that some people will eventually leave this world, but the love they gave us can remain for the rest of ours. Parang kailan lang, kasama ko pa si Nanay. And yet, here I am at 45, carrying her love with me into another birthday. I miss her. I will always miss her. And I will always, always love our Nanay.

Bush - Landslide

11. Parang kailan lang, akala ko mahaba pa ang panahon.  ⏳

Parang kailan lang, akala ko mahaba pa ang panahon. Noong bata tayo, one year felt like forever. Kapag sinabi ng matatanda na “Next year na lang,” parang napakalayo pa ng next year. Kapag birthday natin, excited tayo dahil feeling natin ang tagal bago muling dumating ang susunod. Kapag bakasyon, parang ang haba-haba ng dalawang buwan. At kapag naghihintay tayo ng Christmas, parang ilang taon ang pagitan ng bawat December. Ganun kabagal ang panahon noong bata tayo. We measured time by school years, birthdays, Christmases, summer vacations, and the next episode of our favorite TV show. 😂 Pero habang tumatanda tayo, parang may nagpalit ng setting ng orasan. Ngayon, isang taon ay parang isang mabilis na pahina lang sa diary. January comes, and before you know it, February na. Then suddenly summer. Then rainy season. Then ber months. Tapos mapapansin mo na lang, Christmas lights are everywhere again. At bago mo pa ma-process kung saan napunta ang buong taon, may bagong calendar na namang nakasabit sa bahay. January comes. Then suddenly it's December. At sa pagitan ng dalawang buwan na iyon, napakaraming bagay ang nangyari—pero parang ang bilis pa rin. Dati, ang isang buwan ay parang napakahaba. Ngayon, minsan parang isang linggo lang. Monday pa lang, tapos biglang Friday na. May sweldo ngayon, tapos parang kailan lang, naghihintay ka na naman ng susunod. 😂 At ganoon din ang birthdays. Another birthday arrives. Another year disappears. Noong bata tayo, ang birthday ay celebration lang. Cake, handa, regalo, at saya. Habang tumatanda, may kasama nang konting reflection. “Another year? Ang bilis naman.” At habang papalapit ako sa 45, mas ramdam ko na ang bilis ng panahon. Parang kahapon lang ang childhood. Parang kailan lang ang first day of school. Parang kailan lang ang mga larong pambata. Parang kailan lang ang high school graduation. Parang kailan lang ang basketball days. Parang kailan lang ang mga unang trabaho. Parang kailan lang, ang mga taong kasama natin noon ay nandito pa. And suddenly, we're here. Forty-five. It makes you realize that time doesn't announce itself when it leaves. Hindi ito kumakatok at nagsasabing, “O siya, aalis na ako.” It simply moves. Quietly. Consistently. One day becomes another, one month becomes another, and one year becomes another. At minsan, saka lang natin napapansin kung gaano na karami ang lumipas kapag tumingin tayo sa lumang photograph. Isang picture lang, pero parang time machine. Makikita mo ang mukha mong mas bata, ang buhok mong iba pa ang style, ang mga taong kasama mo, at mapapaisip ka: “Grabe, kailan nangyari ang lahat ng ito?” Sometimes an old song can do the same thing. Isang kanta lang na narinig mo after decades, and suddenly you're transported back to a classroom, a basketball court, a family gathering, a childhood home, or a particular summer afternoon. A familiar smell can bring back a memory. A street can remind you of someone. An old object can suddenly make you remember a version of yourself you thought you had forgotten. That is how strange time is. It takes moments away from us, but it leaves memories behind. At 45, I am beginning to understand that maybe the goal isn't to slow time down—because we can't. The goal is to pay attention while we're living it. To notice the ordinary days. To appreciate the people who are still here. To laugh while we can. To take pictures. To tell people we love them. To enjoy the simple meals, random conversations, quiet mornings, long rides, silly jokes, and ordinary afternoons that don't seem important today but may become precious memories years from now. Because someday, today's ordinary day will also become “Parang kailan lang.” The people we are talking to today may someday become the people we remember. The places we visit today may someday look completely different. The body we have today will change. The routines will change. The priorities will change. And that is not necessarily something to fear. That is life. Growing older means realizing that nothing stays exactly the same—and perhaps that is why we should appreciate things while they are still happening. Noong bata ako, akala ko mahaba pa ang panahon. Akala ko marami pang birthdays bago ako tumanda. Akala ko ang 45 ay napakalayo pa. Ngayon, nandito na ako. And the funny thing is, I don't feel like the 45-year-old I imagined when I was a child. Somewhere inside me, there is still that little boy who thinks a year is a very long time. 😂 But now I know better. Time is fast. Life is temporary. Memories are precious. Kaya siguro habang tumatanda ako, hindi ko na gustong bilangin lang kung ilang taon ang lumipas. Mas gusto kong isipin kung ano ang ginawa ko sa mga taong iyon, sino ang nakasama ko, sino ang minahal ko, ano ang natutunan ko, at anong mga alaala ang nabuo. Because in the end, we don't really get to keep the years. We only get to keep the memories they gave us. Time isn't something we own. It is something we borrow. At darating ang araw na kailangan din nating isauli. Kaya habang hawak pa natin ang oras na ito, perhaps the best thing we can do is live it—not perfectly, not fearlessly, but meaningfully. And maybe, years from now, when I look back at this 45th birthday, I will smile and say the same words again: “Parang kailan lang.”

12. Parang kailan lang, bata pa ako. 👶

Parang kailan lang lahat. Parang kailan lang, bata pa ako. At habang papalapit ang aking ika-45 na kaarawan, mas lalo kong nararamdaman kung gaano karaming alaala ang naipon sa loob ng 45 years of living in this world. Minsan, hindi ko na alam kung alin ang mas mabilis—ang panahon o ang pagbalik ng mga alaala kapag nagsimula kang magmuni-muni. One memory leads to another, then another, hanggang bigla mong mararamdaman na parang binubuklat mo ang isang lumang photo album na hindi naman talaga papel ang laman kundi mga eksena ng buhay mo. Parang kailan lang, yung unang cake na binili para sa akin noong seven years old ako. Bata pa ako noon, at ang isang birthday cake ay parang napakalaking bagay na. Hindi kailangan ng extravagant celebration. Basta may cake, may kandila, may birthday song, at may mga taong mahalaga sa iyo, sapat na. Parang kailan lang din noong unang gupit ko, noong panahong “mama” pa lang ang halos kaya kong bigkasin. Nakaupo ako sa barber chair na wala pang kamuwang-muwang sa mundo, Hindi ko iniisip kung magiging maayos ba ang buhok ko pagkatapos. Basta alam ko lang na kasama ko ang mga taong nag-aalaga sa akin. Parang kailan lang din nang magkaroon ako ng unang bisikleta ko—iyung may dalawang maliit na gulong pa sa likod. Hindi pa ako marunong mag-balance noon nang maayos, kaya kailangan ko pa ng extra wheels para hindi ako tumumba. But eventually, natutunan kong magbisikleta nang walang tulong. At marahil, isa iyon sa mga unang maliliit na lessons tungkol sa buhay: darating ang panahon na kailangan mong matutong mag-balance ng sarili mo. Parang kailan lang nang bilhan ako ni Tatay ng wooden basketball ring sa Harrison Plaza. Para sa isang batang mahilig sa basketball, parang may sarili akong mini basketball arena noon. At ang bola? Hindi pa totoong basketball ang ginagamit ko sa simula. Tennis ball ni Tatay ang pang-shoot ko. 😂 Imagine that—wooden basketball ring, tennis ball, at isang batang feeling NBA player sa sariling bakuran. Hindi ko kailangan ng expensive equipment. Ang mahalaga, may ring at may bola. Then I could shoot for hours. Minsan papasok, minsan hindi. Pero paulit-ulit lang. Shoot. Retrieve. Shoot again. Parang kailan lang. Parang kailan lang din ang habit kong pumatay ng langaw sa garahe kapag wala akong magawa. 😂 Kung walang laruan, walang kalaro, at wala pang interesting na gagawin, apparently, ang solution ko noon ay gawing target practice ang mga langaw. May mga childhood habits talaga na kapag binalikan mo ngayon, mapapaisip ka na lang: “Ano bang klaseng entertainment 'yan?” 😂 Pero iyon ang childhood. You found ways to entertain yourself with whatever was available. Parang kailan lang din ang mga assignments na rush na rush kong ginagawa. Alam mong may assignment kinabukasan, pero somehow, convincing yourself that you still had plenty of time was part of the strategy. Until suddenly, gabi na. Tapos biglang may realization: “Ay! Kailangan pala ng Manila paper!” O kaya art paper! At mas masaya kapag disoras na ng gabi mo pa naaalala na kailangan pala itong ipasa kinabukasan. 😂 Then comes the inevitable announcement to Nanay or Tatay: “Ma… Pa… kailangan ko pala ng Manila paper bukas.” At siyempre, hindi mo na puwedeng sabihin iyon nang alas-siyete ng gabi. Mas dramatic kapag malapit nang matulog ang lahat. At doon nagsisimula ang interrogation: “Kailan pa sinabi sa inyo 'yan?” 😂 Ang sagot, siyempre, ay hindi na puwedeng sabihin nang buong katotohanan. “Kanina pa.” Kahit ang totoo, ngayon mo lang talaga naalala. Those were the days of handwritten assignments, cartolina, Manila paper, art paper, illustration boards, crayons, Pentel pens, at kung anu-anong school materials na kailangang ihanda gamit ang sariling kamay. Walang quick search sa internet. Walang Canva. Walang Google. Walang “Ma, send mo na lang sa akin yung file.” Kapag nakalimutan mong bumili ng art materials, problema mo talaga. 😂 At siyempre, hindi rin mawawala sa childhood memories ko ang mga pangaral at “sinturon sessions” nina Nanay at Tatay. Those were the days when discipline came with a very clear message: “Huwag mong uulitin.” Hindi ko na kailangang i-elaborate kung bakit minsan, isang tingin lang ni Tatay o Nanay ay sapat nang magbago ang behavior ko. 😂 Looking back, hindi man iyon ang pinakamagandang paraan ng pagpapalaki sa mga bata, bahagi iyon ng generation at pagpapalaki na kinalakihan namin. And despite the scoldings, the discipline, and the childhood mistakes, I knew one thing even then: they cared. Parang kailan lang din ang mga utos ni Lolo. May mga simpleng errands noon na bahagi lang ng ordinaryong araw. “Bumili ka nga ng bato ng lighter.” O kaya iyong mga utos na bumili ng sigarilyo. Noong bata pa tayo, ordinaryong utos lang iyon na ginagawa natin dahil si Lolo ang nagsabi. Hindi natin iniisip ang bigger picture. We simply knew that when our grandparents asked us to buy something, you went. At marahil, hindi ko rin akalain noon na balang araw, ang mga simpleng utos na iyon ay magiging bahagi ng mga alaala na gugunitain ko kapag 45 na ako. Parang kailan lang din nang ipinanganak ang kapatid ko sa bahay mismo namin. Hindi hospital. Hindi grand setting. Just home, family, and the incredible memory of welcoming another member into our lives. I was young, but that moment became part of the family story. The kind of story that gets told again and again because it reminds you where everything started. Kapag pinagsama-sama mo ang lahat ng iyon, mapapaisip ka talaga: Ang dami ko na palang pinagdaanan. Ang dami ko na palang alaala. Forty-five years may sound like just a number, but behind that number are thousands of ordinary moments that slowly became extraordinary simply because they happened once and could never happen exactly the same way again. The first birthday cake. The first haircut. The first bicycle. The wooden basketball ring from Harrison Plaza. The tennis ball becoming my basketball. The afternoons in the garage trying to kill flies because I had nothing better to do. 😂 The rushed assignments. The forgotten Manila paper and art paper. The late-night announcements to Nanay and Tatay. The lectures. The discipline. The errands for Lolo. The arrival of a new sibling. The school days. The friendships. The games. The basketball courts. The graduation. The jobs. The teaching years. The BPO years. The people who came into my life. The people who eventually left. And most of all, the people who loved me while I was becoming who I am today. When I look at my 45 years, I don't see one long straight line. I see hundreds of little scenes—some funny, some embarrassing, some painful, some beautiful, and some so ordinary that I never thought I would remember them. But somehow, those are the memories that stayed. Because perhaps life isn't really made up of the big events we carefully plan. It is made up of the little moments we almost didn't notice while they were happening. The cake. The haircut. The bicycle. The basketball ring. The school assignment. The late-night request for art paper. The scolding. The errands. The laughter. The family moments. The ordinary days that didn't feel important at the time. And now, 45 years later, they have become pieces of the person I am. Somewhere inside this 45-year-old man is still that seven-year-old boy looking at his birthday cake, that little boy learning to ride a bicycle, that kid shooting a tennis ball into a wooden basketball ring, that student rushing an assignment at night, that child running errands for his grandparents, that brother watching his family grow, and that little boy who once thought a year was an incredibly long time. They are all still here. They became me. So when I say “Parang kailan lang,” I don't mean that everything happened yesterday. I mean that the memories still feel close enough to touch. The years may have passed, but somehow, the feelings remain. And maybe that is the miracle of memory: time can take the moment away, but it cannot completely take away what the moment meant to us. Forty-five years. One life. Countless memories. And if someone asks me what those 45 years were like, maybe the simplest answer is this: Ang dami. Sobrang dami. More than I could ever fit into one birthday post. More than any photograph could capture. More than any calendar could explain. But if I had to summarize it all in one sentence, I would simply say: Parang kailan lang, bata pa ako. At ngayon, 45 na ako.

And Now, I'm 45.

August 18, 2026.

I am 45 years old.

And honestly, I don't feel like I have reached some magical destination called “I finally figured out life.”

Far from it.

I still have questions.

I still have dreams.

I still make mistakes.

I still have days when I wonder where life is taking me.

But maybe that is the point.

Growing older isn't about finally having all the answers.

It is about becoming more comfortable with the questions.

At 45, I no longer look at life the same way I did when I was 20.

I have learned that not everything needs to be rushed.

Not every goodbye needs an explanation.

Not every dream has to happen according to schedule.

And not every year needs to look impressive to be meaningful.

Sometimes, simply surviving the difficult seasons, appreciating the ordinary mornings, laughing with people you love, remembering those who are gone, and continuing to move forward—that is already a life worth celebrating.

Forty-five years.

45 years of childhood, friendships, mistakes, laughter, disappointments, dreams, memories, beginnings and endings.

Forty-five years of becoming.

And if there is one thing I want to tell my younger self, it would be this:

You don't have to be afraid of growing older.

Because every year you lose in age, you gain in stories.

Every wrinkle in time carries a memory.

Every scar carries a lesson.

Every goodbye leaves something behind.

And every birthday is proof that you made it through another chapter.

So today, I won't mourn the years that passed.

I will celebrate them.

I will celebrate the little boy who cried on his first day of school.

The teenager who laughed with his friends.

The young man who dreamed without knowing where life would take him.

And the 45-year-old version of me who is still here—still learning, still dreaming, still remembering, and still looking forward to whatever comes next.

Because when I look back, everything feels so close.

Parang kailan lang.

But when I look forward, I realize there are still pages left to write.

And maybe that's the most beautiful thing about turning 45.

The story isn't over.

It is simply entering another chapter.

Happy 45th birthday to me.

Forty-five years down.
And hopefully, many more beautiful chapters to go.

Parang kailan lang.

And yet, here I am.

45.

Sa lahat ng magbabati sa aking birthday, asahan ninyong ililista ko rito ang mga pangalan ninyo, gaya ng ginagawa ko sa mga past birthday blog posts ko. Hindi ko kasi minamaliit ang isang simpleng birthday greeting. Para sa akin, napakalaking appreciation na may taong nakaalala ng birthday ko, kahit isang simpleng “Happy Birthday” lang. Sa dami ng bagay na pinagkakaabalahan ng bawat isa, hindi maliit na bagay na maalala ka ng isang tao sa espesyal na araw mo.

Kaya kung babati kayo, huwag kayong magulat kung bigla kayong magkakaroon ng special mention sa birthday blog post ko. 😂 Consider it my little way of saying, “Salamat, naalala mo ako.” At siyempre, hindi mawawala ang aking pagiging blogger—lahat puwedeng maging bahagi ng birthday archives! From family and friends, hanggang sa mga random acquaintances na biglang sumulpot sa comment section, welcome kayo sa listahan. 😂

At huwag din kayong magulat kung sakaling may mga celebrities, known personalities, influencers, o kahit sinong sikat na biglang bumati sa akin. Hindi ko naman sila inaabangan… baka na-bored lang ako sa birthday ko at napagtripan kong isama sila sa story. 🤣🤣🤣

Malay ninyo, paggising ko sa August 18, may message mula sa isang sikat na personalidad na magsasabing, “Happy Birthday, Jack!” At siyempre, bilang mga blogger na walang pinipiling pagkakataon para gumawa ng content, automatic na may permanenteng slot na sila sa birthday blog post. 😂

So, bati kayo nang bati. I will remember the names, the greetings, the messages, the jokes, and even the simplest wishes. Because at the end of the day, birthdays are not really about counting how old we have become. They are about remembering the people who took a little time to remember us.

And yes… 45 na ako. Kaya habang may pagkakataon, magparamdam na kayo. Baka bukas, nasa blog na kayo. 😂🎂🥳

Salamat sa inyong mga pagbati, Special mention kayo dito sa blog. At sa mga nakalimot, bahala kayo sa buhay niyo hahahaha!

Jay Emmanuel Corral

Juju Bautista

Tita Bec at Tita Mer

Gina Garcia

Gino Paulo Bautista

Tatay Cris Ebrado

TL Cat Rivera

Aaron Joshua Tanael

Apple Figueroa

Thet Alcodia

Jec Dags

Jhoan Santarin

Joy Nino Sarmiento

Wymark Gerodias

Risse Molo Reyes

Lorena Robles

Alonica Mae Sonata

Paulo Capitulo

Janice Santos

Condrad Miane

Roel Isidro

Glennard Espiritu