Author: arlanadya

I spent a very intense relationship on my mom last days. Although I was pursuing my master abroad on 2012, once I finished in August, I became almost inseparable with my mom. We had so many things to do, Hajj, engagement, and the wedding, which were taking place within short interval from one to another. She was doing  all those preparations with her sickness which was getting worse as the Hajj coming.

Several days before our departure, I spent days going back and forth to hospital to accompanied her with all test. She even wanted to canceled her departure just two days before and drew it back on the next days. She went Hajj with enduring the pain and sickness.

And me, I went Hajj enduring the stress, which a high level one, Hajj with a sick person. When others were enjoying their Hajj like a holiday, mine was more like a bussiness trip with tight schedule. I didn’t want to miss the prayers too much at Haram just because I had to take care of her. I spent years to be here. I wanted to do the Hajj well without neglecting her.

So, I woke up very early to make sure I had done everything before leaving for the mosque. Made her the breakfast, cutting some fruits, and prepared everything she needed then I left for tahajud, subuh, until dhuha. Between subuh and dhuha, I was going for thawaf. And I was doing all that alone. No companions at all. It was the ultimate me-time I have ever had.

Finished dhuha, I ran quickly outside the mosque to catch the bus back to the apartment. It was time for my mom’s second meal. Near the apartment, I bought something like kebuli rice and lamb curry for us to eat. I skipped zuhur and ashar at Haram. Instead, I chose maghrib to isya. Thus, during that time, I did all the work again so I could leave peacefully.

Really, went Hajj with your sick mother was nothing easy at all. Five days of the Hajj rituals were one of the hardest day I have ever been through. Not only fighting with other million thousands people, more, it was the fight with yourself to be ikhlas.

Two days after arriving back home, my mom was admitted to the hospital. She spent two weeks there. I spent 12 out of 13 days at the hospital. I stayed with her all night, fed her, helped her to go bathroom, cleaned up her pee and poo, even on her last days, when she was no longer able to clean her ass by herself, I was doing it for her. She refused at first, but I said it was really okay.

I once tweeted this :
Taking care your parents in their old age is not a responsibility. It is pretty much an honour.

I really meant it. It was a greatest honour to hear your mother said that she only wanted me to stay with her at night since I was the only one who woke up in an instant once I heard she called. I was the one who felt comfortable cleaning her poo and pee, even cleaning her ass for her.

I didn’t do those to hear that. I just hoped to reduce her pain. It broke my heart everytime I saw she endured all the pain. I didn’t remember when was crying became a daily activity other than those days.

The greatest of the greatest was, I was the one who witnessed the vey last seconds of her life. I was the one who first noticed her saturated oxygen dropped very low, then I was the one who ran into hear ear to whisper tahlil and syahadat. Until her last breath.

After she has gone, I continue taking care of my dad. Not only about the meals, but even for those small things like toping up his phone credit. I always put him first, even before Langit and le husband. I do really care about how he feels. I am often afraid that he feels lonely being without my mom. Eventough  sometimes it feels tired, but I can’t deny I enjoy taking care of him. I can’t help feeling that he deserves as good as what my mom had from me. Thus, as long as possible, I really want to do well for him.

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Is it pure me who is talking above?

To be honest, last days with my mom, I felt that I wasn’t my self during those days. The one who was me wasn’t that brave, kind, and patient. I even wondered where that kind of attitude came from. I felt like something made me those things. Something beyond my control.

Then, it’s only after three years, It becomes clear.

After three years, I finally understand, although I believe she didn’t want to trouble me in any possible ways, there are things beyond our control. And as a verse is saying that one will never get other than what he works for, so was my mom. She just received the payment of her work through me.

After three years, I find a lot of answers to my long lost questions as a child.

After three years, a one year daughter was sent to me to show me just a tiny part that my mom had been through in raising me well.

After three years, I finally understand why we could never repay our mother with anything we have, why mothers have three times bigger portion than a father.

After three years, I finally found a perfect reason to survive and do all those hard works my mom once did.

And why that ustad words hit me hard.

I was moved by all the hard works my parents were doing to me in the past.

Action equals to reaction.

For what I am now, the good ones of course, all credit goes to my mother, my mother, my mother, and my father.

The end of this November will be the third year after mom left. I really have a lot in my mind. Things that finally being understood after three years after she’s gone. Things I have been going through since becoming a mother for a year.

I finally understood every single thing she has done in the past. At least why. I am still wondering a lot about the ‘HOW’. How she could survive with these endless work for years, how she could survive handling and doing everything well. How she could survive and kept staying sane.

Being a mother for a year, I have been a fussy one, I guess. I am not flexible, scheduled-oriented, I do sweat the small things. Sometimes I really don’t know who will have the most benefit by being this fussy. Me, Langit?

But, then I can argue. Looking back what I had been going through as a child, I thought my mother was one too. For some important things, she was pretty fussy. It made me unhappy. But again, those hard times were really paid-off. I witnessed  every single result of her hard works she had done to me.

I really remembered how persistent she was, taking me to YPM so I wouldn’t miss any single lessons according to the schedule. Even it took her so much troubles. Can you imagine, she sent me to the school by taking my little sister and my baby brother. We walked from home until the main street, then she left the stroller in one of small warung, and we rode on a mikrolet. After that, we still continued with bajaj until we arrived at the music school.

Then, how long my lesson was?
20 minutes. Yes, as long as 20 minutes only. So much troubles for a mere 20 minutes.

But, did she stop doing that? Nope. She kept doing it for thirteen years, although with different troubles. If someone asked me, I really couldn’t remember if I had missed any single lessons there. Even when I had my asthma, she really made me still attend the class. See, I really wonder how she could do that. How could she make me do that I mean. Not because of my asthma.

Even her friends were asking her why were taking so much troubles just for sending me to a piano.lesson? It was not even something very important. More, I wasn’t the one with talent too. Even more, she even didn’t have my father’s approval at the beginning. Did she quit? Absolutely not.

She really showed me hard work will never betray you. One by one, her hard works started showing results. Lots of results happened during my four years of college.

It started when I passed the audition for being a piano teacher and got my first job while I was only a second semester student. She was really proud of it until she couldn’t stop saying about her efforts to make me survived until the very end. She showed to those friends who once asked why went through so much troubles for  a simple piano lesson. Really, it made me seems to be the best child in the world, haha.

Guess I was really bloomed in my college years. After a job, I passed the English test which made me got a straight A without having to attend the class. It was only 5 students out of 101. Then, on the fifth semester, I once again passed another selection. A lecturer assistant for Basic Economics. It escalated my status also and it was even making me more famous, hahaha:))

It didn’t stop there. Along side with academic achievements, the personal things seemed doing well too. I really got pretty much attention from those guys around. From classmates, senior, even those from different majors. Yes, plural. Please, don’t throw up first until this story finished.

Saturday night at home spent by receiveing calls. Again, plural. Le husband had so many competitors back then when he called me on Saturday night. If you read this Yobo, please don’t discuss it later;)).

Was I happy? Yes, but surprisingly not really. Being famous and poured with so much attention were really not my thing. It gave me pressures. That was why I didn’t date, at all, during my college years. Not because I couldn’t but I chose not to. I enjoyed staying unreachable.

You may throw up now.

I was so grateful having those during my college years. The time when I had been mature enough. I couldn’t imagine if I got it during my high schools. I would be very tengil I guess.

Although those were my achievements, I almost never thought to take all the credits for me. Really, it wasn’t really me. It was all my mom’s. It was all her hard works for years. I was never being proud without remembering that was actually my mom’s doing. Had I have another mother but her, I would never ever reach those things. I would have never received all those compliments. I would have never felt so good about being myself. For that, I would never be able to thank her enough.

So, me being a fussy mother along this first year, is pretty much because of those things I wrote about. I couldn’t ask my mom how she had been doing with us technically since she wasn’t here. So I just can do what seems possible for me to get the same result. Things that my small brain thinks it fits well.

Two weeks ago, during my niece aqiqah event, there was an ustad who gave speech. There was something that really impressed me so much until I couldn’t forget it at all until today. He said,

“Jadi orangtua itu harus semangat. Semangat dalam mendidik anaknya dan beri yang terbaik. Kenapa? Ketika kita tua, anak-anak ngga mungkin ngga semangat ngurus orangtuanya”.

It hit me hard. Pretty hard.

Okay, since it will be a very long one, I think it will be better to make it two parts.

Keep going to the second, if you want.