Of Hatred And History (4/4) Of Hatred and History (Last of Four)

Today's gospel told the story of the prodigal son. While listening to the priest, I thought only of one word: forgiveness. It is easy to say, let us just bury the man, get it done and over with and move on. It is not that simple, complex is the dynamics from which this issue stems. Splashed across all forms of media are the sins of this family, as individuals, their violation of the Filipino humanity to the core. Stories of corruption, torture and killings, abuse and what-not, do not end. My son, who has no idea about who this family is, read plenty to have his opinion about the matter, and his are remarkably kinder. Not that he knows of our family's history with them, he does not.

I have just recently forgiven myself for my shortcomings. I feel that is crucial, for me to be able to forgive others for theirs, even if forgiveness is not asked for. And while I feel free from the weight of anger and hatred, one word, one memory would still gape open wounds I did not realize still existed. That is perhaps why even after the longest time, those who fell victim to the wrongs this family has done, will never forget. My wounds, I surmise, will not go away ever. So I understand why many oppose his burial in sacred grounds, while only a few fight for it. Of course, as Ilocanos, we only have utmost respect for the brilliant man who was our president. 

I remember Papa taking a long bath after watching on television the EDSA uprising. He came out with a damp towel over his shoulder, his eyes bloodshot. I realized he did not just take a bath, he wept in the bathroom. He knew then his political career has reached its end. That truth, I only saw, when months after EDSA, all the people who had so much as a connection with the ousted administration, were treated like lepers. We all were to be accepting of that, knowing fully well that this family gave Lolo a shot at achievement, despite his humble roots. Plucked out of nowhere he was asked to run for Mayor in this small town in Caba, the rest, well,  is history. Certainly, Lolo was a hardworking, intelligent, kind and humble man, but the opportunity to achieve was afforded him. And to my Papa, as well.

A friend of mine put it aptly when I teased her about her choice of presidential candidate these last elections. She said: 'To each his own'. Indeed, we all are free to make choices, and to say whether our choices are right or wrong, is not for others, it is solely our call. Because in the end, the aftermath of whatever choice we make, we deal with, not others. I choose to agree with what President Duterte deems fit. I choose gratitude. Like those who oppose President Duterte's decision, my reasons are personal, not political. Far from it. I was raised to choose gratitude for everything there was and is in my life. I am not about to forget that now. Not now.