Grow

Holy month Ramadhan, what is it for? Maybe most people will say that it is for increasing our piety to Allah SWT, to get forgiveness and grace, to understand poor people’s feeling when they are starving, or to fulfill our obligation as Moslem. I agree, absolutely agree, but personally I may add a point based on my experiences in some Ramadhan; it is to teach me how to grow up.

Ramadhan never ceases teaching me how to grow up.

Two years ago, in Ramadhan. I was witnessing my mother crying out loud in an ATM box because she lost all of her money in her bank account due to a crime done on behalf of business. Seeing the one who raise you was crying in pain was very painful, very painful indeed. From that moment on, I forced myself not to beg for another funding to my parents, except for what they usually give to me monthly. Luckily several months later I got a scholarship and some projects so that I could ask for lower monthly funding.

A year before, still in Ramadhan. I slept, sahur, and broke fasting on hospital floor while accompanying my father hospitalized. Pushing a trolley or a bed, or whatever it’s called, along with my father’s body lying on it to the surgical operation room was very painful. It’s not because its physical weight, but because of my psychological burden seeing my father groaning in agony. I did also sign the formal agreement to be heartfelt accepting the lost if the worst thing happened while my mother was discussing with the anaesthetist who kept explaining unfamiliar terms referred to my father’s condition. Two hours waiting was like two years in anxiety. My dad survived the surgery. We were very blessed by Allah SWT. From that time on I realized that being healthy is the very gift that Allah gives to us. I also realized that losing people I love may happen anytime. Hence, I try to prepare everything and be ready for so called worst condition mentally, physically and gradually economically.

Now, this year’s Ramadhan. I have to go back to my home since my mother is sick, though actually I also have to deal with some society expecting me to give betterments to them. The ‘trial’ is getting harder when we heard that my father’s youngest brother fainted in airport when he was on the way home after a week doing his duty over-island. He was taken to a hospital immediately. Doctor said that my uncle got critical cerebral hemorrhage (pendarahan otak). My father and my amang immediately went to the hospital to accompany him and to make some considerations in decision making. My father and amang never fly anywhere; they didn’t know how to deal with airport thingy. That’s one of the things that make me and my mother afraid, beside my father’s unstable health condition. A day has been passed by; we got a phone call from father. He cried that the chance for Mang Ayi to survive is low, the brain hemorrhage have gotten into stadium 4. We then pray because we truly believe in Allah’s miracle.

Shortly after we got the shocking information from my father, amang called us and told that my father’s health condition was getting worse; he was getting sick because of being depressed. I know that feeling dad, the feeling when you can do nothing while your beloved little brother is in suffers, being in tranquil agony. I could feel what he felt because I also have a beloved little brother. Then we decided to ask father to back home immediately. We asked a relative to accompany him until the take off from Ngurah Rai, and then my unhealthy mother and I picked him up at Soekarno-Hatta. My little brother and my little cousins were left at home along with my auntie who kept crying over her brother’s condition.

Before we returned home, we visited mang Ayi’s home in Bogor. There was a pregnant woman waiting patiently and some neighbors tried to relieve her. We embraced her in warm and said that everything’s gonna be okay. We also embraced three of mang Ayi’s children. The oldest child which now is in junior highschool looked stoical although a moment later she cried. The second child innocently asked “Abi kenapa A?” and the youngest child who is still a toddler complained “Ibu Abi kemana ibu?”. That night we were in a sorrow. We just can pray, and hope Allah’s bless , Allah’s miracle.

We returned home in the same night as we visited mang Ai’s home because we left a child alone in our house. On the way home, suddenly my parents said that in finding a partner, I am not supposed to consider only her beauty. Being able to understand and accept each other are things that make my parents never be in quarrel at all, and those things should be taken into my considerations also. That was a moment of silent. I was thinking, smiling, and realizing, that it’s not her.

Ramadhan never ceases teaching me how to grow up.

Year to year the ‘level’ is getting harder.

But does it mean that I am also getting stronger, no? Who knows.

For those who read this scribbling, I beg you to send your prayer for my beloved uncle, Mang Ayi.

Let's pray for him, so he can be healthy and sound again.

Wake up uncle, a wife, three children, and a new-born baby are waiting for you at home.