By the time this sees print, we will have seen and heard more than our digestible share of comments and reviews on the latest and last Sona.
Indulge me please. Let me add my two cents’ worth. Can I gush a little?
I felt like a proud Mama. If I had a signature terno, I would have worn it, at home of course, just to be in the moment.
I once had a Ben Farrales in red taffeta! I wore it at a state dinner for US President Dwight Eisenhower that I covered for the Manila Chronicle. When was that? The Spanish would say: “El año de la polca!”
Anyway, back to the Sona.
I made up my mind to tune in just minutes before it started and not stay too long after it was done. I don’t enjoy listening to pompous know-it-alls. I was willing to miss the traditional march into Plenary Hall. It didn’t happen anyway. I wonder how many faces dropped in disappointment in the waiting room. This year, the jostling and jockeying for a chance to walk beside the President was all for naught.
When the speech was over, I signed off. The only comments I caught were from “Mr. Teditorial” himself, who was effusively charmed and impressed by the performance.
Defiant
So here are my two cents (90 centavos)!
In a nutshell, I loved it. I think it was his best. The speech was direct, at times on the edge of defiant, but it had many tender moments and even a couple of attempts at self-deprecating humor. He was unashamedly grateful and proud of what was achieved under his watch and had eloquent moments where he expressed hope that we continue what his leadership has begun, challenging us to keep moving strong and steady on the straight path. We must.
I ask myself how this young man can still stand there flushed with optimism and filled with unwavering hope and faith in God and the Filipino people, after doing battle for almost six years against unrelenting well-funded resistance.
I am not a reviewer of speeches or expert on political discourse. But I feel it when someone’s words resonate in my heart. And his did! I loved it when he took the time to pay tribute and say thank you to the many who helped him, including his yaya.
Someone asked me what I thought of the three images that were flashed on the giant video screen, faces of the presidential hopefuls.
I thought it was a little showbiz. It caught everyone’s attention but was not up there long enough to cause a commotion. It was like seeing a picture of what was on everyone’s mind that afternoon. I said a silent prayer.
Sudden thought: Will the breath of fresh air that blew into the Palace in 2010 remain as exhilarating and vibrant after 2016?
Should we sit back and just watch what happens or jump in and get messy?
Let me borrow from Joe America: “Here’s the most important charter we have as citizens: to elect a president with impeccable integrity and to help him carry the load as best we can. If we do those two things, the Philippines in 10 years will not be rising. She will be soaring.”
Tara na!
Lost things
What do you do when you misplace something? Many pray to their favorite saint. I was taught to clear my mind, retrace my steps and figure out where I could have lost it. But it’s getting harder to remember where to start.
Should you keep looking? Can you chase after every clue or shadow that may lead you to the object of your search? Or is it best to give up? Who knows, in time we may not even remember what it was that we lost. Is that possible?
And what if you can’t replace it? Will you then work at convincing yourself that you no longer need it? Does time really make your loss seem less world-shaking?
Does this also happen with the people we have loved and lost? There are studies that claim you eventually forget that special someone you once thought you could not live without, the person you missed desperately and pined after like a fool. How long will that take, pray tell, a lifetime?
Delicate poetry
I recently read an excerpt from “Love and Misadventure,” a book by Lang Leav, an Asian writer now based in Australia, the daughter of Cambodian-Chinese parents.
Her poetry is delicate, tender and touches the heart.
Here’s what she writes in “Lost Things.”
“Do you know when you’ve lost something—like your favorite T-shirt or a set of keys—and while looking for it, you come across something else you once missed but have long since forgotten?
“Well whatever it was, there was a point where you decided to stop searching, maybe because it was no longer required, or a new replacement was found. It is almost as if it never existed in the first place—until that moment of rediscovery, a flash of recognition.
“Everyone has one—an inventory of lost things waiting to be found. Yearning to be acknowledged for the worth they once held in your life.
“I think this is where I belong—among all your other lost things. A crumpled note at the bottom of a drawer or an old photograph pressed between the pages of a book.
“I hope some day you will find me and remember what I once meant to you.”
Are you on someone’s list of lost things?
