part 1
Before I forget my own
history, i’ve decided to put it on this long note. I cannot start from the day
I was born, so I’m gonna take it from the time I hit puberty, huehehehehehehe
I entered middle school,
with the help from my aunt in-law because she is one of the staffs there. I met
many friends and made a lot of memories, either they are happy or sad memories.
It was in 2005, July, and I was not even 12. It went smoothly, everything-
until my last year.
On Valentine’s day, exactly on 14th of Feb 2008, my
beloved father passed away. this-needs-further-explanation.
He was old, my father was very old. He was as
old as my country. He was old ever since I started to recognize my family
member. And he was in pain. So much pain that people around him could feel it
too. He got stroke. He was partly paralyzed. He could hardly walk and talk. My
mom always had a hard time to take care of him. To tell you the truth she is 12
years younger than him so you can imagine how hard that was. But she always
cared no matter what. Typical of loyal wife. And I as the youngest kid, could
do nothing but hated that situation. I could do nothing about him, about him
being sick and everything, I was just a child who wished a normal life. how
wonderful life could be with a healthy father who took you outside, and you
could brag about him to your friends. Honestly that is what I wanted. But I
could do nothing. All people I knew gave me explanations why my father was like
that and I should accept it. I did accept it. But sometimes I exploded. Saying
I hated it, didnot help him if he wanted to get up and held his hand when we
walked. I barely did that. And I regret it so much right now.
The last days of his
life, he could not even get up from his bed. That morning of valentine’s day,
my mom looked worry, No one was home beside the three of us. I went to school
like always, had my extra class for the upcoming national exam, finished at
afternoon, went back home and there- he was still lying on his bed with hard breathing.
My mom told me to call my brothers and relatives. Suddenly everyone was around
him. No one even bother to call the doctor or bring him to the hospital, like
they knew it was his time. We prayed together, and exactly at ten to five
o’clock that afternoon, he left us forever, on his way to meet The One. Even my
oldest brother didn’t get home yet because he was still in Tegal at that time.
My mom said he left in a good day, it was Thursday night, I thought the same.
A few days passed and my
mom underwent her iddah time. Right
after it ended, my mom went to my father’s grave. Something unexpected
happened. My mom’s diabetes relapsed, her scar on her sole worsened and it had
to be healed soon. So, apparently not long after her freedom from sorrow of being
a widow, she was brought to the hospital. Her scar couldn’t be healed anymore,
the only option was to amputate a few of her sole fingers. [put picture HERE]
What a fate, I thought. After my father,now this. But I could do nothing. Back
then I didn’t even realize that I could do something about it. All I did was
just studying hard. And as if it is still fresh in my memory, on the last
trial, my test scores were decreasing, so a lot of my friends and teachers
worried about me. That was because the first morning of the trial, my youngest
big brother got an accident. I couldn’t concentrate well. Plus, I took turn
with my aunt and family to accompany my mom in the hospital. That way, I
attended the national exam for middle school student.
Unexpectedly, the result
of the exam came out well, even the best out of all students in my school. I
got first place, everyone...believe it or not.
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