Every August 21, I like to remember Ninoy Aquino by reposting this story. Believe it or not, kebs ko.
BENIGNO AQUINO, JR. AND MY FRIEND'S NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE
My friend was a co-faculty member in the Graduate School. He handled Organization and Management as well As Human Behavior in Organization subjects. A scholar since grade school, he finished his college and masteral with distinct honors from a prestigious sectarian university in the South. Employed as a Manager in HR Department of a chain of hotels when he had the amazing near death experience, his job descriptions included trouble shooting between management and the union.
That fatal day, after a long hours of negotiations and renegotiations, he was just happy to drive home and take a hot shower.
He was about to board his car when he felt something on his chin, No pain, but it came later as blood gushed like a busted fire hydrant. He got shot . No one dared to come near him. They did not see the assassin. He did not know how long he had been there, lying in a pool of blood. The bullet was the type that explodes inside the skin. The ambulance came; so were the kibitzers. The nearest hospital was a government hospital where despite the lack of medical supplies to handle such kind of operation, the doctors did their best to save his life. Time was running out and he was losing a lot of blood.
After six hours of operation, the doctor assured the family that he would pull through.
He lived but there was a need for him to go to the United States for reconstructive surgery. The bullets shattered his chin. His jawbone was no longer there.
Through the help of relatives and friends, he was brought to the US for the much needed surgery. The operation entailed sawing off a portion of his skull in order to get a bone for his mandible.
During the process, he flatlined.
“ I felt myself floating in that room. I can hear the frantic conversations of the doctors and nurses. They were trying to revive me. I felt light and could see the medical team working on a body that seemed to be mine”.
"In that unconscious state, I saw a very familiar figure, dressed in white. He seemed to be floating too since we were looking down on the doctors and nurses."
"He did not talk; he was just smiling. I never expected him to be a member of a reception committee”"
"Then I heard a voice. He’s back. "
For years, he had this puzzle to himself. He was no way connected or have met Benigno Aquino, Jr.
The dean of the Graduate School advised him to consult me. He believed in me when I identified who was haunting the resort where we stayed for our conference.
Though, he was skeptical, he approached me. After relating the story, he asked me for an explanation.
I said, " It must be because it was August 21." The answer just came out of the blue.
"Acceptable, but how did you know it was August 21?" he asked.
I did not know either, I told myself. I shrugged my shoulders in response.
I added that the good senator took the mission of guiding newcomers whose death may have been caused by assassination. The impact of the sudden death leaves them alone and disoriented in their entry to the other world.
Back and alone in my room, I doubted too what came out from my mouth. First, my friend did not die when he was assassinated.
So I floated a question. If it was he who whispered, will he pretty please give me a sign, within an hour. I should like see his picture without me looking for it.
I was sure that I would not get one. His birthday anniversary was four months yet. There was no news or write up about him but then, I did not touch a newspaper or a magazine. I decided to stay in my room for the next hour.
Time was up. I called the help to buy me something. I pulled a bill from my purse. There was his picture. The help dropped something. It was a used stamp. She explained, she was collecting stamps for his kid brother. It was Benigno Aquino's picture in the stamp.
reposted from my blog