I never knew the day will come when watching the news and reading the newspaper will be painful. And I never knew that I was capable of grieving for someone whose only direct connection to me is that we share the same Motherland. We are both Filipinos.
Like yellow confetti falling happily from the skies, grandiose verses and superlatives have rained on this irreplaceable woman and icon; probably the finest Filipina to ever walk this earth. I have said my piece in a salutatory blog I posted barely three hours from the announcement of her death last August 1. While I want to write more accolades in a bid to immortalize her greatness, I have conceded that whatever I write will not even come close to the poignant eulogies and moving speeches of those who have personally known and felt Cory’s magic. That and the fact that no words can do justice and describe her impact to us; as individuals and as a nation.
I am just an ordinary Filipino grappling to survive the harsh realities in this land of a thousand contradictions. And for the past days, I have walked with sadness draped over my shoulders and a lump in my throat that returns with each constant reminder. The yellow ribbon that decorates the corner of the TV every time I watch the ABS-CBN channels. The endless pictures of people enduring everything just to express their respect and admiration. The tender stories from her children that can make a rock burst into tears. Her funeral cortege (juxtaposed with that of her celebrated husband’s) that is both eerie and serene. Of history repeating itself and coming full circle to remind us of the events 26 years ago.
Frozen images of a nation again united by pristine grief and sombre celebration.
Seeing the videos from the 1980’s made me take stock of my being Filipino. I’ll admit that my patriotism is highly questionable. Cynicism and scepticism are the only passions that flow in my blood. But in being reminded of Ninoy, EDSA and Cory’s glory days, a fervent glow in my heart is once again ignited. Sadly it took Cory’s death and her legacy for me to realize kay sarap palang maging Filipino (it feels good to be a Filipino).
In mourning for Cory, we are grieving for ourselves more than we care to admit. She represents a dream, a rarity. The most excruciating part is that she is someone we might never again see in this lifetime. For a country that has made a lot of “wrongs,” it is heart-rending to realize that we once made a “right” and now have lost it.
But we need not lose it. It’s up to us to make her memory and legacy live on.
I never cared for politics, or history for that matter. I quit my previous job (eight years ago) because I got tired of writing and researching history textbooks. Current events bore me and I skip the front pages of the newspaper and dive into the Lifestyle and Entertainment sections. As a graduate of the state university known for its ideology and nationalistic dogma, I was a sterling and disgraceful example of apathy and nonchalance.
But from here on, the sight of yellow will be my call to heed and take action. Even in my own little way. The events of the last few days gave new meaning to the word “citizen.”
I hope the outburst of yellow will again be seen in the coming elections. To remind us all of our responsibility and what we can collectively do as a nation. The outpouring of support for Cory is proof enough of what we can do should we put our hearts into it. THE FILIPINOS ARE GOOD AND WE CAN STILL DO GOOD. History is our kind witness and teacher; change is our potent weapon. As a nation, we can rise from the shadows of our mistakes and triumph over adversary and challenges. Our innate goodness can prevail over the permutations of evil. Even in death, Cory showed us the way and it is up to us to follow it.
Goodbye, Cory and thank you. May your yellow forever shine upon this nation and inspire an outbreak of greatness and pride in the years to come.
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Originally posted at www.barnieboi.blogspot.com.
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