The sunshine of our lives

As she appeared on television to appeal for relief goods for the victims of typhoon Ondoy, ABS-CBN Foundation’s Tina Monzon-Palma said she didn’t realize the beauty of waking up to the sunshine as she did on the morning after Ondoy.

I remember when I was in school and wishing I would wake up to a rainy morning so that classes would be suspended. It would be raining the night before, and as I would stir in my warm bed, I would cock my ears and listen closely to the sounds outside. If it would be the sound of a downpour, that was music to my ears. Signal Number 2! No classes! Yehey!

But Sunday morning, I joined millions in Metro Manila in rejoicing that the gentle rays of the sun, not the sound of the rain, greeted me when I opened my eyes. And to those who huddled on their roofs Saturday night, wet and yet weak from dehydration (water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink), the hope that the sun would come up tomorrow was a life raft that came to their rescue long before the NDCC did.

My husband’s parents Carlos and Garding, both octogenarians, live in Singalong and waist-deep floodwaters invaded their house so they had to seek refuge on the second floor. My nephew Miguel was stranded in a bus on Coastal Road for four hours and he waded through the floodwaters for another two hours till he met up with his anxious parents. People Asia staffers Greggy and Kristel, who reported for work Saturday, were forced to spend the night in the office. In our house in BF Homes, ankle-deep floodwaters encroached on our living room.

We were the lucky, lucky ones. Even with my left foot injured and stranded in my room, I actually felt lucky. Otherwise, I would have been out on a Saturday morning and most probably stuck at the SLEX.

Home with my husband and son, two able-bodied men who I’m sure could have lifted me up to the roof in the worst of circumstances, I felt safe and secure.

But many, many people spent the night in a shelter that was not their home, some spent over a day on their roofs, many lost their homes, and most heartbreaking of all, their loved ones.

Ondoy was like a thief in the night that struck when the public was virtually sleeping — used to rains and floods but totally unprepared for a deluge. The weather bureau reported that the rains that pounded Metro Manila in six hours were the equivalent of a month’s rainfall in a very rainy season.

The curtain of rain was so thick outside my window that I was spared the sight of the rising floodwaters that were burying the cars on the driveway. Ignorance was bliss till I was told the waters had invaded not just the cars but our townhouse as well — the first time since we moved in in 2002.

We in Metro Manila feel bad when disaster strikes in the provinces — landslides, shipwrecks, floods. We support relief missions and sometimes join them. We feel distant toward and insulated from disasters that our countrymen encounter with such frequency in the provinces — a blackout is the worst of our nightmares. Till disaster struck home.

I hate to admit it but I used to think only the less fortunate ended up in evacuation centers. Those with means usually headed for five-star hotels to escape the blackouts at home. But Ondoy leveled the field — rich and poor alike were slapped equally with its wrath, and rendered helpless by its force. To those in Cainta, Pasig and Marikina, the floodwaters roared like an unstoppable roller coaster headed straight at them. Thousands living in shanties as well as sturdy concrete houses had to flee their homes and become refugees.

It was good to wake up last Sunday with the sunshine on my face... but as the day wore on I learned that the night had not lifted for many. And as much as I deny it, it has not lifted for me, either.

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Though the sun shines on all of us every day, some of us must still live through the night of our lives, even in daylight. Why must we suffer? Why must disaster strike?

I woke up yesterday and today to the gentle rays of the sun, but Ondoy has struck my heart. My father Frank is due to undergo surgery soon. He is not completely well, and this surgery is expected to make him better.

Dad is really the Hercules in our family — the one who swam to the ocean while others stayed in the safety of the beach; the one who bested even younger teammates in whatever sport he engaged in, whether bowling, basketball or baseball; the one who continued working while many others had called it a day; the one who continues to report for work still at age 77.

It’s hard to be strong when the Hercules of the family will have to slow down. And as you pray for the victims of Ondoy’s wrath, I ask that you include my dad in your prayers as well.

I was spared the floods and I thank the Lord for the sunshine on my face every morning. And I pray with all my heart the night would go away.

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(You may e-mail me at [email protected])