Tribute to Dad

This has to be the first thing I should tell after I decided to write again. 

On 9^th August 2020, my dad passed away. I, who is working far away from home, was staying overnight in the office with my colleague, Hiro, when I received the news. It was like a thunder striking out of nowhere. I was in disbelief as mom told me over the phone. I felt like I want to go to sleep and find that all of it is just a dream, but no matter how often I try to pinch my cheek, the pain keeps telling me that this is real.

I don’t know what to do, my mind went blank. Hiro was listening to my conversation and tried to calm me down. He called my boss and other colleagues, I’m still in shock and thinking how do I attend dad’s funeral tomorrow. I opened a travel apps to find the earliest flight to Jakarta is at 8 AM. And to make it worse I have to provide an antigen/PCR swab result to be able to fly since we are in the middle of corona virus pandemic, which NO CLINIC OR HOSPITAL HERE ARE OPEN FOR ANTIGEN/PCR TEST IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

Hiro accompanied me all night to find a place that provide antigen test (PCR is no-go because the result will be out at least in a day), but nothing found. At 3 AM my sister told me that the funeral service will start at 1 PM, I told her I might be unable to attend due to this messed up circumstances. She sounds disappointed, a little angry, and after some heated arguments she promised will show me live streaming of the funeral instead if I can’t make it home.

I’m still at disarray as I made a WhatsApp and Instagram story about the news and texting my closest friends (of course no one respond immediately since it’s 3 AM, except one who resides in Netherland). I didn’t sleep at all that night. At 5 AM one of my colleagues, Mrs. Mice, called me and told me that she has a friend in a clinic that can help. The Clinic is open at 7 AM but she asked her friend to prioritize me. I’m thankful but couldn’t calm down yet. What if the test result is positive? Even if the result is negative, what if I can’t catch the 8 AM flight?  The next flight will be at 11 AM and since the flight will take more than 3 hours, excluding the time to transport from airport to home, it’d means I won’t be able to attend the funeral if I miss the first flight.

It was one hell of a morning. At 6 AM I went to the clinic with Hiro, brought nothing but my body and clothes I wore. As we wait for the clinic to open, I checked the travel apps and found that the 8 AM flight is gone from the apps. I checked other apps and found nothing as well. Ah, I’m so screwed, I thought.

I checked my phone again and it was starting to filled with condolences from friends and colleagues. I told them my circumstances, and then one of my colleagues, Billy, said he can ask his friend in the airport to book the flight for me and hold the plane until I boarded. I thought what the hell you can do that??? Why do you have a friend like that???

Apparently yeah, it’s possible but of course I have to pay more than the normal fare. At 7 AM I met with Mrs. Mice’s friend in the clinic and do the antigen test. At 7.15 AM the test result is out and it turned out negative. After that Hiro took me to the airport with his motorcycle. His old motorcycle sounds almost exploding to keep up 90 km/hours speed. At 7.45 AM I arrived at the airport and Billy’s friend is already waiting for me. I hand him the money and antigen result test, told me to wait a bit and came back with a boarding pass. He escorts me directly to boarding gate and I get to the plane exactly at 8 AM and it took off immediately. I was the last passenger to board the airplane.

What. The. Hell.

...

I can’t sleep at all during flight, despite how hectic this morning is. When I arrive at Soekarno-Hatta Airport, there was about 10 missed calls from my sister. I called her back and told her I’m on my way to home. I took a Bus to Bekasi and arrived at home around 12 PM.  Some of my families and neighbors were already gathering in front of my house. I just bowed to them and rushed inside the house. There’s my mom, my sister, and my brother standing beside a coffin. I hugged them and looked inside the coffin, my dad is lying there wearing a black suit, with hands folded in front of his chest and eyes closed, just like he is praying to God. My little sister is in her room and refused to see dad. She never likes death.

To be honest, my dad is not the best dad you’d have. He rarely talks to his children. He seems to love his plants more. He’d be more than happy if I asked about his plants and he would tell me about bonsai this or aglaonema that even though I’m not really interested in it. But hey who won’t be happy listening to their dad talking about things he loves? He is a hard worker and often bring his work to home until late night, but never once he failed to water his plants every morning.

One thing I hate about my dad is he never tells anyone if he feels pain, stressed, or something bad happened to him. He keeps it to himself. Last time I had a video call he looked so thin but he keeps saying he’s fine. Two days before he passed away, he told mom that his stomach hurts so much. She brought him to hospital and doctor said there is internal bleeding and apparently, it’s the cause of death. At that time hospital is full of covid patients and he probably couldn’t get optimal treatment and gone after two days. Knowing him he must’ve endured his pain for so long until it became too unbearable because he doesn’t want to make mom worried. Ah, my stupid dad. If you’re not feeling well, please say so. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to love other than keeps pain and suffering alone for the sake of people I love and I’d start to hate myself too. Now that you’ve left us how am I supposed to dream bigger. My brother and sister already have their own family and now my mom is taking care my little sister who has special needs by herself. I was thinking about traveling somewhere even farther but what if I couldn’t be there when mom needs me. What if mom also leave us and I need more than 10 hours flight to get home. What if this, what if that, I can’t stop overthinking shits.

It’s been 2,5 years since dad gone now. Life’s hard but it must go on. I’m getting older, and so do my mom. I bought a house in case I need to bring my mom and little sister here, sacrificing my savings for traveling. I don’t know if it’s a good decision though. I just realized that maintaining a house is far harder than a one-room kos-kosan. Getting home after work with no one welcomes you also feels so hollow. My colleagues keep bugging me to find a wife, even introducing me to some girls but I just can’t have emotional tie with them. I wonder what’s wrong with me.

Ah, I wish dad is still here. It’s true that you don’t know what you’ve got until you lost it. I should’ve checked up on him more often. I should’ve asked him if he feels unwell. There are still some regrets lingering within me but nothing can be done about it. Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not. I can only move forward, even though future is uncertain. Rest in peace, dad. I don’t think I ever said it but you know, I love you.