Our National Treasure

It is as if the rain cried with us in her death. 

Cory Aquino had always been the symbol of democracy. Of course, she was not the only who freed us from despotism; it had been the collective efforts of brave men and women who fought back tyranny. She had been depicted as a “housewife.” Even if she was just that, she stood up when everybody needed her, when the whole nation depended on her. If your husband was recently assassinated, you had the right to stay away from what took your husband’s life, and yet, she took enormous responsibility, amidst threats and criticisms, and when being a woman was a “drawback.”

The Cory Aquino as the “mother of this nation,” the Cory Aquino as Ninoy’s true love, and the Cory Aquino as the mother of her children are being featured in television nowadays. As much as I want to write how extraordinary her life had been, so many have already been said. I have always liked her and Ninoy’s love story. I’ve watched her telling stories of their love in their daughter’s television show so many years ago. I never thought they would be so romantic.

The whole nation is grieving for the loss of this woman who loved yellow; this woman who turned yellow as a symbol of fiery passion to restore democracy and rule of law. Her family is crying, her friends are crying, her cabinet members are crying, her EDSA supporters are crying, the old are crying, even the youth are crying. Many are falling in line to pay their respects to her; some brought flowers at her home; and some decided to stay at home sitting in their patio furniture watching television, reminiscing that glorious year of 1986.

It is only when I “deeply” studied our nation’s history that I came to understand the greatness of this simple woman. It is only lately that I understood that she was the only one who never clung to power, who was never corrupted by power. The first thing she actually did as President was the Freedom Constitution, ensuring that no one would unduly extend the presidential term. Where would we ever again find this national treasure?

In her death, we are crying with the rain.