Heroism in time of typhoon “Ondoy”

Today, days after typhoon “Ondoy” exited the Philippines leaving more than a hundred people dead and billions of pesos in properties lost, many stories of heroism emerged, some of them involving celebrities and even hugging the headlines.

The most dramatic and more like a scene from a movie is probably the rescue done by a TV star and matinee idol who used his speedboat to come to the aid of a pretty damsel (an actress) in distress. Another actor who is a surfer in full surfing gear saved his neighbors using his surfing board. Then there is the member of the judiciary who used his expensive jetski to rescue people who were stranded in their rooftops.

I am not saying that these are not heroic acts, but what grabbed my attention, tugged at my heart, and brought tears to my eyes, however, is the news story buried deep inside the pages of the newspaper of an ordinary Filipino who did an extraordinary act of heroism. He, by the way, has an unusual name that probably accounts for his unusual act.

He is Muelmar Magallanes, a teen-ager (18 years old) who at the height of the flooding last Saturday brought home to safety some 30 people. They say he did it just by using his innate swimming skills (he is described as an “excellent swimmer” by neighbors) and sheer strength…

But I wonder whether there is more to Muelmar than just his swimming skills and strength. What propelled him to put others first before self in the face of real danger to one’s life?

I wonder.

At first, he saved his family by tying a rope to his waist and with it pulled his younger siblings and parents to dry land. After being told that his neighbors were endangered in their rooftops by the raging waters, he next dragged them one by one to safety. He could have stopped then. Yet he braved the deep and murky waters once more after he saw a woman and her baby in a styrofoam being swept away by the strong current. He swam mightily towards them and pushed mother and child towards the safe shore where others took over. But, probably exhausted and tired at this point, he himself got swept away in an instant by the rampaging waters. That was the last time they saw him alive. They found his lifeless body the next day.

“He saved others but he could not save himself”, people say at his wake afterwards. But his parents were not surprised at what had happened to their son. “He always had a good heart”, his mother said. “He has always been a brave boy”, his father added.

Aside from his atypical name, Muelmar, which most likely is from his parents’ names Samuel and Maria, the other thing that struck me is his youth. I wonder whether he is in school, though I am sure he is not from Ateneo or La Salle. Does he have a girlfriend? Has he ever played a play station? Or any video game, for that matter? Does he know what a jetski is? Has he ever seen a surfboard? Or did he spend his boyhood summers learning how to swim in the waters of the river that overflowed and finally killed him?

I wonder.

They say also that he is a construction worker. I wonder whether he is a carpenter like Jesus and his foster father Joseph. Is his father also a construction worker? And his mother an ordinary housewife? How did his parents raise him and what do they know about raising children? Did Samuel and Maria teach him always to put self before others like what Joseph and Mary did to Jesus? Did they practice what they preach and showed him how to do it? Did they read the bible to him when he was growing up?

I wonder.

In any case, the extra-ordinary heroism of a young man with an unusual name happened in a place called “Bagong Silangan” or New Dawn. Will his death now bring a new dawn to his place? To his country, the Philippines?

I wonder.

Thoughts on grandparenting

Not too long ago I had lunch with some friends from my high school batch. And amidst the din of loud conversation mostly dealing with recollections of people and things past, I realized with a sense of awe that our generation is now the generation of grandfathers and grandmothers. Everyone was speaking animatedly of their grandchildren while readily whipping out photos from their wallets to show them off… I realized too with a tinge of sadness that, even as I was already approaching my 70’s and able to show off the photo of my only grandchild Nicole on my cellphone, I hardly knew the feeling of what it means to be a grandfather…

The feeling surfaced once more last Sunday when I received a text from a niece greeting me with a “Happy Grandparents’ Day to the best grandfather in the world!” I thanked her for the thought. But deep inside, I thought: “Ay, oo nga, grandparents day daw pala ngayon. What a big deal!”

Again, last night I watched an episode of “Maalaala Mo Kaya” (a popular Tagalog television drama serial). I seldom watch this program but I must admit I waited with anticipation for this particular episode because it was about the life story of a grandfather and his granddaughter skillfully and beautifully played by Ronaldo Valdez as the grandfather and Dimples Romana as the granddaughter. I won’t deal with the story itself; suffice it to say that I cried a bucketful.

I thought I felt that way because I was still in a parenting or fathering mode with my three daughters still around or at least near me while my only granddaughter Nicole is living thousands of miles away where our only means of communication is an occasional “Hi” and “Hello” through the computer.

It occurred to me too that I do not know what it truly means to be a grandfather because I never really felt the love of a grandfather. I never met my grandfather on my father’s side while I never really became close to my maternal grandfather who lived away from us when he was alive.

They say, in jest of course, that parents discipline their children while grandparents spoil them.

Would I still have the chance to “spoil” a grandchild at this point in time of my life and really feel what it means to be a grandfather? I certainly hope so…