The Saddest Journey Home

I wrote this on my way back home yes, home, Mojokerto  the place where I grew up, where I witnessed everything that happened in our house, where I could always rest and find my mother cooking when I came back.

But this… this is the saddest journey I’ve ever taken. The saddest homecoming of all my homecomings.

It’s 3 a.m. now, and I’m just praying that I arrive safely, that I make it in time before my father is buried. After years of battling his illness, my father finally left me… just three months after my mother passed away, during Ramadan, right after she came home from the mosque, after reciting the Qur’an.

That morning was the saddest morning of all my mornings,seeing my mother in pain, helpless.

Right now, I don’t even know what I feel, or what to think. I’m in the car, traveling from Bekasi to Mojokerto with my sister and her husband. My older brother came straight after work, and my sister is sitting beside me, both of them trying to stay strong, trying to comfort me.

Meanwhile, my brother,the only man left in our family,is back there, managing all the funeral arrangements by himself.

Moments like these make me blame myself. I can’t help but feel like I wasn’t a good enough child,  like I failed them somehow.

I lost my parents.
No, they’re still with me, in my heart. I know that.

I just don’t know how they are now, wherever they are. Are they happy? Are they at peace? I pray that they are.

My father, free at last from pain.
My mother, I don’t know what she feels, but I believe she’s happy. She’s always been strong, capable, and endlessly caring.

This is the first time I’ve ever written about this and it hurts.

To anyone reading this, please, take care of your parents. Spend time with them while you still can.

There’s a small comfort in this journey. When I looked out the window, I saw the moon. I thought the moon knew how I felt as if it was accompanying me on this sorrowful trip. It looked down as if to comfort me, whispering, you’re strong, you’ll be okay.

Whenever I look at the moon, my mind quiets down. I stop overthinking. I just let whatever I feel flow out and somehow, I always end up crying.

There’s no mom waiting for me with delicious food anymore. No mom scolding me for going out at night. No mom calling when I’ve been out too long.

Because of my father’s illness these past few years, everything in our house had stopped and my mother became the one who held everything together.

When I was in college, it was my father who sent me money, who suddenly showed up to pick me up in his patrol car, who took me out for food behind my mother’s back because she’d forbid it for “health reasons.” There’s no one to pick me up like that anymore.

Losing your parents makes you feel like you’re losing your mind like you don’t know how to react, don’t know what to do. I keep crying and thinking how cruel this world is to me, as if I’m the only one who’s hurting.

Today, I got a notification from YouTube my favorite singer released a new album. One of the songs is called “Shit Happens.”

I didn’t even listen to it. I just stared at the title and thought, maybe the world is agreeing with my sadness today maybe it’s letting me grieve.