Ngunyan Mac, nakatingalog kami saimu sa langit. Nagsakat ka dyan Mac na piga protektahan baku sanang kaming taga Cabihian pati taga Palta,kundi pati ang boung Pilipinas. Mabalos, Mac.
Kira gahibi kami ngunyan bakla na,pag bigyan mo na kami Mac, ga ngilit kana naman diyan.
You do not know me and I have never met you. We would never have any chance to meet at all in the future. Well, maybe if I make it to heaven where I’d like to think you might be in now.
When you died, I stared at your photo wearing your uniform and the flag of the Philippines draped behind you. I read up on your life story and called up media friends in Catanduanes to get to know you. I wanted to know more about you and to meet your family at your funeral but I wasn’t deployed by the Bureau there in Virac.
Despite the distance and our never really having met personally, I cried for you. I cried over your death.
Mac-Mac, I’m not really an emotional person. I’ve seen suffering in post-Yolanda Visayas and had known of cruelty among our countrymen. There were things I had seen and experienced that I believe could be unbearable to some but I never cried this easily.
I also read your brother’s message that he posted on Facebook about your childhood together. It was a childhood in the countryside of Catanduanes that I could relate to.
His narration on attending barrio dances and how you danced at the tune of our national anthem are some things my cousins and I witnessed among our neighbors in San Andres-Calolbon, Catanduanes. Childhood in the Island is as relaxed and lazy as the humid Summer afternoons on the beachside that us kids would spend with our parents gathering “bugitis” to cook later on the bonfire. I’ve never climbed trees but I am glad that you had enjoyed it with your brothers.
I read from the papers and the internet that you and your comrades who were trapped in the 12-hour firefight in Mamasapano were still texting and calling your family and love ones until the last minute.
I can only imagine the last things you might have told the people that mattered to you, especially your girlfriend that you told your father about. I hope she and your baby would be fine.
Nevertheless, I feel sad that your child will be born this April without meeting his father. I even grow sadder with the thought that he would have to go on with life without your guidance and love. His mother would also have to raise him alone with her memories of you as her only source of strength and inspiration.
I can only imagine the fear that you felt being surrounded by enemies, gunfire whizzing by your ears and Death’s shadow looming above your head. There was no hope of leaving there alive, Mac-Mac. You must have known that.
It made me angry, Mac-Mac. It made me angry now knowing that you and your fellow members in the Special Action Force begged for safety. It made me angry because I believe that if help arrived in time or if you and your team had been told to withdraw from the firefight, you would still be alive now.
It made me angry that you had to die.
We would have been welcoming you in Bicol alive, maybe nursing some gunshot wounds or bruises, but not this cold dead body that your father has to bury with a heavy heart.
You were valiant. I was told you fought like a true “Oragon” should. You stared down at Death with resolve. They found you with two grenades in your fists, as if you were about to beat Death by claiming your own life.
It made me proud to hear that you are now known as “The Last Man Standing” among the 44 Mamasapano heroes.
Mac-Mac, you were so young, younger than me. No one should die that young, especially someone as promising as you. You had a bright future, but they robbed you of it.
Thank you for your sacrifice, Mac-Mac. Your fellow policemen are proud of you. It might sound grim but your deaths helped in changing the image of “Mamang Pulis.” Many Filipinos who lost their faith in your lot due to issues of corruption among your ranks now look at men-in-uniform as public servants willing to risk their lives for us.
Well, I’ve always had faith in men-in-uniform (at least in majority of you). But your sacrifice made me appreciate them more like brothers and sisters my love ones and I can actually count on “to serve and protect,” “to protect the people and secure the land.”
I know that despite having some bad apples in your midst, there are many like you who were there because you willingly pledged your life and your own future for others – for us.
I won’t rant about the government here. I’ve done too much ranting already. I do not hate the Muslims just because some of those who killed you are believers of Islam. I won’t speak about the Bangsamoro Basic Law.
Alagad namumundo man giraray ako, PSI Max Jim Tria. Dae lamang matatampadan nin maski mangguranong sentabo o medalya an saimong buhay. Mawot kong mangisog, alagad, siisay man an pangingisugan ko?
Ngunian na nagkaparibod ka na sa kahadean nin Dios, padagos mi ikang rurumdumun.