We wore yellow, never mind that it was quite unbecoming. We thought Kris was cute, and rallied her on to her dream of becoming the next Sharon Cuneta. We sang Bayan Ko and flashed the L sign, even though we were weaned on KBL and the New Society.
We were in high school, and in an era of defining moments, Ninoy's death changed the world as we knew it. As teenagers who wore angst as a badge of honor, we surveyed our surroundings and realized that our growing-up issues were nothing compared to the country's. We rallied, we rebelled. And then we went on with our lives.
Watching the People's Funeral from the comforts of home, I realized that between then and now, so little has changed. Bayan Ko--the way Lea Salonga sang it--still moved me to tears. There was this unmistakable high as yellow confetti rained down on Ayala once more. We still have the same growing pains: ours and the nation's.
Sure, Kris is no longer cute, but the yellow fever that took the unassuming housewife from her kitchen kingdom to the highest halls of power is for real. Even if sometimes we tend to forget.