Reminders

“Maybe this is a reminder,” sighed my brother as he pulled the sophisticated contraption of speakers, sub-woofers, and amplifiers from the rear compartment of his car – what’s left of it. “Maybe God is trying to tell me something. Maybe it can’t be just blessings all the time.”

I crawled out of the back door, clutching his stereo and whatever important-looking documents that were left inside the car. The other three doors were jammed, useless.

I slapped him on the back, marveling at the piece of miracle standing beside me. “You are alive and well. As I see it, your blessings never stopped.”

We stood there smiling and staring at his car, now a grotesque heap of twisted silver-gray metal. Joan and my sister-in-law were busy moving around it, taking pictures from different angles. “Maybe we’ll have one of these photos framed, as souvenir,” joked my sister-in-law.

It was a quiet morning of National Heroes’ Day. The company that towed and housed my brother’s wrecked car only had two staffs moving around the huge garage.

If there is a heaven for cars, this must be the purgatory. Cars with varying degree of damage are lined up neatly, waiting for their fate – whether to be repaired and revived back to roadworthiness, or be condemned to scraps.

One of the staffs approached us. When she learned about the accident, she told my brother, “Maswerte kayo ng kasama n’yo, Ser. (You and your companion were lucky, Sir.)”

Just a few hours ago, at 3:30 am, Joan woke me up and handed my ringing cell phone. My brother was at the other end, speaking slowly and sounding rather tired.

When he told me that he was in the emergency room of a hospital not far from our place, I jumped up and started dressing up. Joan, too, was immediately up and doing the same without a word.

By the time we left the house, my brother had given me the barest details of what happened: he and his colleague were driving back to the hotel where they were attending a conference, he swerved to avoid a car that suddenly counter-flowed, and hit an intersection barrier.

It was a nervous drive all the way to the hospital. Images of my brother covered in blood kept playing in my head, and the curfew placed by the government in Makati and other areas – after the stand-off staged by Senator Antonio Trillanes at The Manila Peninsula Hotel the day before – added to my anxiety.

The reports coming out of the radio about the large number of curfew violators being rounded up by the police did not help ease the tension either. At 4 o’clock that morning, Makati’s busiest business district was like a ghost town, and at every turn I was half expecting a police would pop out of the shadows to stop us for inspection.

The nurses at the emergency section, upon learning my name, directed us towards a door with the sign “Critical Care,” next to a door that says “Acute Care”. I was about to ask the nurses the difference between the two rooms when my brother was wheeled out, an embarrassed smile on his face, but with no visible injury. His companion came out, walking on his own, apparently dazed but uninjured.

Bills were paid, reports were filed. The curfew lifted, and somehow the day began to felt more like a real holiday, a small celebration of life. It was a day of miracles, short reunions, and small yet important reminders.

Stay safe and healthy, everyone. ^^ Drive safely.