I was surprised to see my mother, opening the door when I get home. Then father followed behind and rushed to hug me as if they couldn't wait to see their beloved daughter after years separate. My heart cried to see their appearance, the old look, tired, and lonely. The wrinkles made me feel strange. A lump of stone seemed to suffocate in my chest, looking at their gray hair as if it had not touched a comb in years. It's hard to imagine these people who raised me with great care and love over the years.
I still picture a beautiful young woman with soft, thick long black hair and a handsome man, with a broken white long-sleeve shirt and the same color trouser, dashing, riding a bicycle down the outskirts of the village after work. A beautiful girl and a lovely man fell in love, share a happy moment together then married, and God blessed them with a beautiful baby girl nine months later. It was the most awaited and perfect moment in their little family.
Every day, a young mother and father, hand in hand, take care of their sweetheart, singing lullabies at bedtime, changing diapers, preparing food, and bathing with a lot of fun and joy. Their happiness when the baby screams the first words, mama... is like hearing heaven's singing. Their excitement to see the babysit starting to crawl, standing by herself, and with great patience, they hold the tiny hands leading her to walk... tahh titahh... titah... titah...
Step by step, the little feet stepped until finally she could walk, play, run, and fall asleep in front of the TV. Now and then, the father's strong hands lovingly lifted the sleeping baby, putting her back in the bedroom and covering her body with a soft blanket. Checking for naughty mosquitoes and in no time heard his hands clapping, Clap! Catch mosquitoes that accidentally pass in front of him. He didn't even let a mosquito survive when it touched the skin of his beloved daughter.
They educated her and put in their best effort until she grew up to be a kind, strong, independent woman. They will do whatever it takes to see their little child happy.
I looked at myself through their hopeful eyes.
I am, their beloved baby daughter who grew up with much love. I am the love of their life, their pride and hope, look so miserable now.
The image of the happy young father and mother suddenly faded to become an old face, full of wrinkles with gray hair. I know they must have felt my sadness even though I never told them. They seem to want to help their beloved but are powerless. They want to support but don't know what to do.
I can't seem to accept it. I can't hold back the tears. It will break them first to see me broken. They get what their beloved daughter feels many times over. I can not bear to have made them unhappy. It wasn't until my heart made them sink into prolonged confusion and sadness.
And I cried.
...
...
...
The morning call to prayer is heard.
I woke up.
But strangely, I did not find my parents near me.
It turned out that I dreamed of the arrival of my father and mother at my house, they were present in the dream, but my tears were real.
I was crying.
***
I've never cried for Bintang. But dreaming of my mother and father in such a way made my tears hardly stop. I haven't been able to make them happy. What if I lose the opportunity to put a little smile on their lips?
I didn't cry for Bintang even when I faced the reality he came home early in the morning and fell asleep carelessly. And I found out he had just spent the night with a woman in an apartment he rented for 300 thousand a night when Bright school fees of 500 thousand were unpaid yet.
I didn't talk about it, didn't ask, didn't care,
I just filed a lawsuit.
The morning prayer is calling.
***