Fall of Dream Pesantren (Move WRITE)
Critical Father
A few months passed. Azmy has long since returned to the pesantren. Ammar, who is still struggling with his lecture in Jakarta, must struggle because soon the thesis will be held. He was able to finish his thesis last week and just wait for the trial time to arrive. Until that day came, everything changed.
“Mar, hurry home. Your father's pain relapses again.” Mother spoke from the phone with a clear-sounding cry.
Ammar's tears are dripping. He is in Jakarta and is preparing for his thesis exam which was conducted this afternoon. Today is his father's birthday. He has prepared the best gift and is ready to send. His desire to send the gift is extinct already, defeated by his desire to immediately go home to see the face of his beloved father.
“How's dad doing, Mom?”
“Your father is in the hospital. Her breathing is decapitated.”
Without a second thought, he immediately contacted his thesis supervisor about Dad's situation and asked for permission to go home after the exam. He also asked that his lecturer can coordinate professors who will test him to arrive on time, if possible first.
Ammar's mind drifted everywhere. Is it time to face God? Why should it be so fast? Doesn't he want to see me happy by passing me this exam? Why should it be so fast?
He did not want to think strangely first, all he wanted was to immediately return to Sidoarjo.
Ammar opened his laptop and searched for the fastest flight ticket to Juanda airport after finishing his thesis. No matter what the price, he will buy. After searching for a few minutes, he finally managed to find the desired ticket.
“Alhamdulillah.” Ammar said in his heart.
Inwardly he was determined, he had to show his best to Dad. His worth should be the highest of his classmate, as well as the fastest. His desire to rest that morning, he canceled. He reread the thesis he had typed. These two days he did not sleep to prepare for his test and this was the third day. He doesn't care about his condition this afternoon during the exam. The most important thing for him is to give the most beautiful gift in your last moments.
Naturally everyone will choose to rest and refresh the mind when a stressful day arrives, such as exams and others. Those who have been preparing for months, tend not to be too imposing when the exam day arrives. Unlike Ammar this time, he inevitably had to force the brain to get the best results even though it had to risk losing focus due to lack of rest.
Not felt, the time has shown at two noon.
Ammar entered the courtroom after performing the Ashar prayer. With her eye bags still hanging, she declares ready for presentation and answers any questions asked.
Two hours passed. Two hours later he finished presenting everything on his mind. All that remains is a question session.
Ammar did not need to think hard to answer the question because it was a thesis he wrote about his father's pesantren. His research is his daily life at home. Whatever he observed from his father's students and boarding school, that's what he put in his thesis.
“I ask prayer for the healing of my father who is critical. So much and thank you.” Cover Ammar with teary eyes.
Cumlaude with a GPA of 3.98, that's the value he got. Ammar could have got a maximum GPA without a gap, but it tends not to like it because it can make it negligent of its own shortcomings. On the other hand, the mother is still waiting for the results of the doctor's examination. The doctor came out with a gloomy face indicating bad news.
“Sorry, Mom. Pak Wahyu must be operated immediately.”
Bu Ani was shocked, he tried hard when he heard the doctor's words just now.
“I can enter, Doc?”
“Please, I stay first, Mom. Operation is one hour away.”
“Good, Doc.”
Bu Ani looked at her husband with teary eyes. Dad smiled to see the mother who entered the father's room as if the pain suffered by the father disappeared instantly.
“Bu, why did you get to my condition?”
“Patience, Dad. Maybe it's a trial from God.”
“Bu, if I only live to this day, I'm sorry, yes. If I got it wrong, snerepoti too.”
“Already, Dad. Don't talk like that. Don't think weird. Trust in Allah. May your pain quickly disappear.” I could not help but cry. Her tears were spilling in my father's palm. Mom keeps stroking Dad's hair that starts white.
Mother was not strong to look at the face of the father more and more, the man who accompanied his life for twenty-eight years did not look cheerful. Now dad's helpless. The face of the father who was always cheerful and full of dignity, now turned moody and very pale. From here it appears that the father always hides the burden of his life so as not to worry about people around him.
Ever since my father got sick, I've never been out of the house, looking after the Head of the Family, looking after my heart. Morning, afternoon, and night.
Icha also often visit Sidoarjo. Behind the work call after graduating from medical school, he was always ready to take care of his sister's best friend's parents in the boarding school. He finished his medical school a month ago and waited for his graduation. So did Pakde Ghofur and the grandmother who took turns to look after the father.
That afternoon it rained. Five and a half hours ten minutes. Dad's room is now quiet. Only mother, grandmother, father, and icha remain. Icha wants to practice what she has learned over the past four years in Jakarta.
