The Cory I Knew

It was 1983 when I first 'met' Cory. Shortly after Ninoy's death, the Cory I knew made me think what a simple and strong woman she was to take all of what's happened to her.

The Cory I knew made me put a 'Cory' sticker on our front gate during the snap elections. Not such a big thing but considering our gate was plastered with Marcos posters she made me feel I did something to help.

The Cory I knew made me feel brave when during the Edsa Revolution, I went to Club Filipino be at her inauguration. She made me go to Edsa after that too... I stayed at the old VV Soliven Tower to show that we could no longer live with a dictator in our lives.

The Cory I knew made me feel proud to be a Filipino when she gave that memorable speech in the U.S. Congress. I felt that being a Filipino was the best thing in the World back then!

The Cory I knew made me fight for our democracy... sort of. It was during one of the coup attempts when power to our village was interrupted because of a transformer being shot by the rebel group. Along with the whole village, we patrolled our neighborhood, making sure no rebel soldier entered our area.

The Cory I knew made me feel betrayed. It's been a few years and nothing seems to have improved in our country. The poor were getting poorer, the rich richer. Nothing seems to have changed. Even the price of 'galunggong' went up!

The Cory I knew disillusioned me. There was talk of her running once more for the Presidency. She's turning out to be just the same as all those other politicians... one taste of power and they want all they can get.

The Cory I knew made me feel I was so wrong. She stepped down as President, as she promised, even though her 'advisers' told her she could run again. The Cory I knew made me feel proud again to have stood up for her.

The Cory I knew made me feel sorry for her. I couldn't imagine what it was to be the mother of Kris. She must have spent a fortune on migraine medication because of all the grief her daughter was giving her.

The Cory I knew made me go along with Edsa 2. Coming from a long night at work, I saw the initial gathering at the Edsa Shrine. Cars were beeping the 'Cory' and I joined in as well!

The Cory I knew made me wonder where she was. Shortly after the Edsa 2 revolution, and I didn't hear much about her. Maybe like most others, I was just too busy with life to care much about anything else.

The Cory I knew made me disappointed in her once again. I read in the news that she apologized to Estrada for Edsa 2. That made me really mad. She shouldn't have done that, she shouldn't need to do that, she's Cory Aquino!

The Cory I knew broke my heart. I found out that day she had cancer. I expected her to live to be a hundred. This could not be happening to her, not her.

The Cory I knew lived up to who I thought her to be. Throughout her sickness she was a picture of peace and strength. Never did I see or hear about her complaining about what fate has dealt her. She also made me feel ashamed for complaining about the most minor aches and pains. What I was feeling was nothing compared to what she was going through.

The Cory I knew had passed away and finally laid to rest today. She's gone and now it's up to us to keep her dream alive.

Lastly, the Cory I knew should never be called 'Former President'. To me she is THE President of our country.

The Chair

My first attempt at writing, this was back in High School, thanks Mr. Baldous Lee for giving me the love to do this:

When I was 10, in my bedroom was a rocking chair. I don't know why my mom put one there really, except as a sort of 'swing' for me and my sister I thought. We had a relatively big house so it wasn't there because we had nowhere else to put it. It puzzled me back then why of all the rooms it had to be in mine, that is until one evening.

My lola (grandmother) was in town for a visit. We hardly took notice of her, much preferring to play and eat than to stay and have a chat with her. She was a quiet lady, not saying anything, not complaining from the lack of attention we gave her everytime she came over. I thought she didn't care, that she was just there to get her 'allowance' from my mom. I kept thinking that way until that evening.

It was a fun evening, me and my sister played til it was almost time for bed. Things got a little out of hand though and it ended up with me breaking a lamp that my mom really liked. We fought: I said I didn't mean it, she said I should have been careful. Neither wanted to to admit anything. I always slept in my mom's bedroom till that evening. I ran out of her room and locked myself in mine, angry and frustrated thinking 'Why couldn't she understand?' I almost cried myself to sleep but I heard a soft knock on my door... it was my lola. She asked, 'Are you okay? I heard you shouting.' She saw the look in my eyes and knew exactly what happened.

She entered my room and sat down on the rocking chair. She asked me to go to bed and said she'll tell me a story. I complained that I was too old to listen to a fairy tale. She just said 'This is different, just listen will you?' Reluctantly, I went to bed thinking 'this is silly'...

My lola told me a story about a young girl who had a fight with her mother. The fight was so terrible that the young girl left their home and never came back, convinced that her mom hated her and wanted her out. Through the years she always wondered if she made the right choice. She grew up, married, had children, and grew old, never going back home to reconcile with her mom. It was only when she heard her mother passed on that she went home to pay her respects.

When she arrived, only then did she realize how wrong she was all this time. In her old room were perhaps dozens of gifts. She thought 'That's unusual, bringing gifts to a wake'. After asking one of her brothers why there were gifts in a time like this, he gave her this puzzled look and said 'Those are for you. When you left, mama kept on buying birthday gifts for you hoping you'd be home to open them.'

Lola paused, looked at me and said 'Don't make the same mistake I did.' She stood up and left and at that moment I knew why I had a rocking chair in my room... and why I had my lola.

My First Blog

This is a first for me, writing a blog. Why do you say I'm doing this? Well I honestly don't know. I just feel like telling stories and I hope someone does read this to give me an opinion on how good or bad things are for me. For now enjoy the ride!