‘Aqui estoy’ (Here I am)
By Msgr. Ramon Stephen B. Aguilos
Last April 26, 2025, the day of the funeral for Pope Francis in Rome, I found myself at the tarmac of DZR Airport of Tacloban City. I was with several other priests who celebrated a Memorial Mass for the deceased pope who stood with the people of Leyte and Samar in their darkest hour.
Ten years ago, on January 17, 2015, the DZR Airport became a sanctuary of hope. The people had walked from various places to that area where the pope was to celebrate mass. They were drenched in rain yet radiant with faith. A little more than ten years after his visit, and simultaneous to his funeral in Rome, the faithful returned to the “sacred tarmac” with gratitude, honoring a shepherd who came to console them, the survivors of Typhoon Yolanda. The people couldn’t forget the pontiff who walked among them as a father, a friend, and a bearer of God’s mercy.
As the chairman of the Arrival, Departure, and Local Protocol Committee during the papal visit, I worked closely with the Department of Tourism Region 8, under Director Karen Tiopes, my co-chairperson. Together, we welcomed Pope Francis alongside an esteemed reception entourage: Archbishop John Du of Palo, Mayor Alfred Romualdez of Tacloban, Mayor Remedios Petilla of Palo, Governor Dominic Petilla of Leyte, Congressman Martin Romualdez of the First District of Leyte. Among the well-wishers who were at the tarmac were Senator Ferdinand Marcos, Jr., the future President of our nation, and Madam Imelda Romualdez Marcos, the former First Lady of the land. There were Church leaders, national VIPs, local officials, and of course, the faithful, all gathered to receive the Holy Father. A vibrant crowd of well-wishers, including four dance groups from Leyte, joyfully danced to the tune of the Curacha—the lively music of our Leyte-Samar heritage.
I cannot forget the image of Pope Francis stepping off the plane, clad in his white cassock which would later be covered with a simple yellow raincoat, his warm smile cutting through the storm. That smile seemed to say, “I am here, in the rain, in your suffering, with you.” During the Mass still in that yellow raincoat, the Holy Father set aside his prepared homily and spoke from the depths of his heart. His off-the-cuff words once again seemed to sing that refrain: that God weeps with his people, that Jesus is close in their pain. “Aqui estoy, I am here with you.”
After the mass he circled the tarmac in his popemobile, greeting the faithful. What a balm to the people’s wounded hearts! Typhoon Amang might have cut his visit short, but his message endured: God is near, even in the storm. The faithful were soaked and shivering in the rain, but they stood firm as they had in the aftermath of Yolanda.
Pope Francis passed away on Easter Monday, April 21, 2025, a day after his final appearance at St. Peter’s Square. The only words he uttered in that public square were, “Buona Pascua a tutti.” “Happy Easter, everyone,” his voice faint and fragile. He was said to have thanked his nurse, saying, “Thank you for bringing me to the square,” referring to the Piazza di San Pietro, where he greeted the faithful one last time.
The square! What a poignant image—Francis longing to be with God’s people. That Piazza and the DZR airport tarmac are spiritually entwined. The Piazza di San Pietro is the grand heart of the Church; the DZR tarmac in Tacloban is a lot smaller, the humble heart of Yolanda recovery. Yet both are sacred spaces where God’s people gather, where heaven meets earth, where a shepherd embraces his flock. In the Piazza, Francis spoke of peace; in the DZR tarmac, he spoke of presence. In both, he showed the face of Christ: compassionate, merciful, ever near.
When he faintly greeted the faithful in the Piazza with “Happy Easter,” he summed up the mystery that defined his life. Having passed away on Easter Monday, he now reunites with Kirstel Padasas, a volunteer worker who, during the papal visit ten years ago, was killed instantly as a scaffolding holding a speaker system collapsed on her. Francis now intercedes for the Filipino people. For all we know he is joined by our Filipino music icons—one Asia’s Queen of Songs, another the Superstar and a National Artist, and the third an OPM legend—in a heavenly chorus praising the God he served. Pope Francis’ life challenges us to live as he did: to stand with the suffering, to dance the Curacha of joy amid sorrow, to be a Church that goes out to the margins.
Tacloban’s tarmac, soon to be part of a new runway, symbolizes the Leyteños’ faith taking flight, carrying Francis’ message of mercy and resilience to the world. The yellow raincoat stands as a sign of God’s presence and protection in their storms. The people of Leyte and Samar who honored Pope Francis on that same tarmac he celebrated on ten years ago are committed to living his legacy of love.
The author is the present co-pastor of Our Lady of Fatima Church, Tacloban City. During the papal visit to Leyte in 2015, he served as the chairman of the arrival, departure and local protocol committee.
