JUST as we cannot appreciate light if there is no darkness, we now are learning to appreciate Cory Aquino now that we’re living in a Philippines without her, the personification of Inang Bayan.

While she did say once that she would “rather die a meaningful death than to live a meaningless life,” what made Cory different from her martyred husband Ninoy Aquino was that she didn’t brave a bullet to achieve a political end.

For Ninoy, the Filipino was worth dying for. For Cory, the Filipino was worth living for.

In 1986, Cory rescued the nation from the pit of cynicism. Back then, it seemed like there was nothing that we Filipinos couldn’t do because getting rid of Marcos was an impossible dream. Suddenly, everything was looking up.

We were the darling of the world, just like Iran today. “People power” was a wildfire that swept across the world from Indonesia to the Soviet Union to Latin America. And Cory was the patron saint of democracy. “Kay sarap pala maging Pilipino.” But when it became clear, as 1986 dragged on to 1992, that Cory could do little to ease the poverty and clean up the corruption, disappointment after disappointment piled up.

In her valedictory State of the Nation Address in 1991, Cory asked Filipinos for understanding: “I hope that history will judge me as favorably as our people still regard me, because, as God is my witness, I honestly did the best I could. No more can be asked of any man.”

Thanks to years of betrayal by politicians who claimed to serve the people, cynicism became the nation’s greatest enemy and the greatest ally of the dishonest and the scheming. Cory seemed destined for historical oblivion.

But when Cory did become part of Philippine history on August 1, 2009, her unquestionable integrity, sincerity, modesty and fidelity to civic duty turned out to be her saving grace. If the presidency is often said to be thankless job, Filipinos proved it wrong with their tears, yellow confetti, patience and discipline in lining up in the rain and in the heat, yellow ribbons, classic Ninoy shirts, banners and, of course, the “Laban” hand sign.

As if she was giving a parting shot against a corrupt government, Cory’s passing pulled us back again from the brink of cynicism. For at least five days—from her death to her August 5 funeral—and especially for those who endured Marcos, we realized how good it felt not be cynical. It was 1986 all over again.

Cory’s presidency was a disappointment because she didn’t meet Filipinos’ high hopes of social injustice corrected, poverty eased, and corruption purged. But now that we have the gift of hindsight, we’ve realized that we’ve been using the wrong criteria of what makes a good president. After all, we did ask an ordinary housewife to throw out a dictator, didn’t we?

“What do I know about being president,” she did tell the nation when she was being enlisted to run against Marcos in 1985. What we saw was what we got. She got Marcos out, so she did her job.

“On June 30, 1992, the traditional ceremony of political succession will unfold at the Luneta. The last time it was done that way was in 1965. I shall be there with you to proudly witness the event. This is the glory of democracy, that its most solemn moment should be the peaceful transfer of power,” Cory underlined in her 1991 address.

Democracy is Cory’s legacy, so much so that she was once asked how ordinary citizens could be made to stand in front of tanks—as if there’s a recipe for people power. She replied: “I don’t have any formula for ousting a dictator or building democracy. All I can suggest is to forget about yourself and just think of your people. It’s always the people who make things happen.”

For those who remember the Marcos dictatorship and who are now grandparents or parents, Cory’s death is a golden opportunity to explain to today’s young generation what democracy is all about, especially as politicians toy with the 1987 Constitution that is the Aquino legacy. Just as Cory took up Ninoy’s mantle, so should each Filipino now take up Cory’s.