Consummatum Est; Let Us Start All Over Again

Sometime in my youth, which I am certain was between the ages thirteen to fourteen, a sense of wonder lingered to me, setting off a question in my mind: “Why do people who govern my country act the way they do?” Raised by a lawyer father who was too honest in amassing ill-gotten possessions, the mere thought of stealing a centavo by an elected official from common folks he swore to serve honorably was to me, strange. My father had many visitors in his office, which he held in our home in Sta Ana, Manila. He was never bored as he always had the company of his friends, clients (which ranged from the Chinese tycoon who paid him a hefty fee – to the lowly fisher folk who came from far-away Iloilo to sought his help pro bono), colleagues, neighbors like the old guy who shared his interest in playing the piano, relatives, and even the postman who always rang twice. One time (during that time), on a nice Sunday afternoon with an associate of his at the back of our house while having his daily four o’clock bonfire, he told this story: Once, an old friend from the province whom he has not seen for a long time came for a visit. They spoke lengthily for hours reminiscing about their bygone years, how the way it were, and how different things were (at that time) in their hometown. In the middle of their somewhat jolly banter – or should I say conversation – his old friend brought to mind the idea of my father running for mayor. At first, my father thought of it not a serious suggestion, but when the prodding went on, he knew his friend indeed was earnest with the idea. But the whole thing was pointless for my father. He reasoned out two things: First, if he wins, he would have no choice but to leave us – his family – behind and that he would be abandoning his real profession, which is law. Second, with the meager salary he would be receiving from being a public servant, it wouldn’t be sufficient in paying for the education of five children who are all studying in private schools. Would that scenario ever happen, some dreams will suddenly be dashed just because of a position in government. Finally, he told his friend, “I do not know how to steal money. And if that’s the way I’m ever going to have my kids continue their education, that’s just not going to work.” The whole point is, my father has self-respect, and even if anyone gives him the loftiest of all lofty positions one ever dreams of, he would say, “pass.” He would even say that if he became the president of the Philippines, the Americans will try to kill him the soonest, after inauguration day, because our country will really be the Philippines we ought to have and not the a country run by thieves and scoundrels and Justices who enrich themselves by way of an unconstitutional appointment by a miniature fake president we recently had. I guess it is about the Nationalism he always championed all his life. Sometime in my youth, when it came to a realization that things were not as I understood it to be – although it was understood by me well – I said to myself, will it ever happen in my life that I may wake up in the morning and see that where I live there’s still hope, or that might witness a dawning of good things to come? I said, yes. There will come a time, while I am still breathing the air our great heroes of our past breathed before, that it will happen. That I may not wait too long as to lose every inch of that hope recedes until it would be gone forever. That my grandchildren won’t wait until their own grandchildren never even had that rare opportunity. Buddha once said that, what you think and believe will happen, will happen – I’m sure something like that. Yesterday, that dream of mine became a reality: Thank the Lord for those twenty senators who voted to convict a thief who does not deserve another minute as our chief magistrate. Thank the Lord for a savior in the prosecution who did not dilly-dally and went straight to the point in simple but true utterances on why someone of such character no longer had any trust whatsoever (actually from the day he was appointed when all of us were already asleep dreaming of the days before that so-called EDSA II). A few, who joined the majority vote sort of bandwagon (many know who you are especially that obvious looking, grandstanding nitwit of an actor; not that simpleton-behind-the-back-gun-shooting-actor in his 70s movies; Mr. I-was-once-a-poor-chap,-but-now-look-at-me-I-own-half-of-Las-Pinas), may live to see another term as they seek it. Crazy as it seems, but yes, I voted that “Gentle Lady from Iloilo” for president many years ago, what an embarrassment on my part. And yes, she walked-out and rode the ambulance van that promptly brought her back to the asylum where she has been confined since day one. She also calls it her home, I think. I have nothing to say to the late dictator’s son and namesake, there’s nothing to say at all, and as to The Joker of the Senate who made a joke of himself, I salute you for not confusing us by being a consistent SOB all this time. You will get all the accolades you deserve in hell if there ever was/is one. But the problem is, there’s no hell, so just avail yourself of the last perks a senator of the republic receives, because that will be your last.