Fall of Dream Pesantren (Move WRITE)
When the Ajal Pick Up
At first, I took my father to the local doctor. Finally, on the recommendation of the doctor, the father was taken to a hospital whose tools have been advanced with a heart specialist to undergo further examination. Mom and grandma are standing behind me. Pakde and bude are ahead. Pakde was the one driving my dad's favorite sedan. I glanced at Mom for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that dad still wanted to drive his gray sedan again.
On the way to the doctor, the father suddenly surprised the father, bude, grandmother and mother.
“Bu, badminton racquet at home broken. Please fix yes, kasian later our two children can not play anymore.”
In such a very weak condition, father still thought of the racket he used to use playing with Ammar and Azmy. The next day, Pakde brought the racket to be repaired. Such is the love of parents to their children even with such circumstances.
After undergoing an examination, the father's condition has not improved, even with the supervision of a heart specialist. The pain suffered by the father slowly went away, but a few moments later came back again. Mother decided to take care of father at home so as not to trouble relatives.
Dad's condition is getting worse. I spend a lot of time in the bedroom. From the outside of the room that is parallel to the father's mattress, the mother always monitors while cooking and preparing the medicine that you must drink. Sometimes you make your father's favorite cup of warm tea and massage his legs. I was never far from my dad. I also asked for leave since my father became ill.
“Bu, who will teach our pesantren children if mother continues like this? Each teacher has their own class . .” Father said slowly.
“A quiet dad. Mom has been replaced by her friend Ammar.”
I continued “Neasn't have to think too much, Dad. The important thing is to heal.”
“Bu, do not leave me yes, although I can only trouble.”
Mother nodded. Unable to answer.
Dad's getting shivering. It's also hard to sleep well. Sometimes just a few minutes. Eating and drinking are also rare, just a few mouthfuls of rice. The medicine that my father has to take is getting more and more. Heat plus pain in the head and heart still often visit the father. His weight dropped drastically. Pakde Amir came with his wife from Bojonegoro to accompany her father for a few days.
Although still limp, the father still fills routine studies at the village mosque, sometimes also preach in Jum’at prayers. Father had planned to fill a routine study outside the village despite the conditions. Mother often reminds father about his health, but the father's answer remains in his way to spread kindness because it is guided by amar ma’ruf nahi munkar which has always been the words of encouragement father. He slowly fights his illness. The heartache that had threatened my father's life for a few days, finally disappeared.
At that time, Ammar was at home to complete the research to be used to complete his thesis. At that time, my father was still in recovery.
“Yeah, I'm leaving first. Please pray that my thesis will be completed quickly and get satisfactory results.” Pamit Ammar kissed the back of my father's right hand. Ammar took a deep breath and held back his tears from coming out in front of father. He was sad to leave home in such a situation.
“Le, don't take too long. It might be the last time you saw your father.” Father Message.
Ammar. There was a nervousness in his heart. Maybe this is the last time you saw your father, that line kept ringing in his ear. Not feeling it, tears had flowed down her cheeks. All the way on the plane, he always looked out the window. Seeing a suitable scene to relieve his anxiety. But it's not all enough.
Ammar thought that this was a sign that he would never see his father again. There will be no laughter together. No staying up together to see a football match. There is no making coffee together and discussing religious matters. No more of it all.
After Ammar left, the pain in the chest of the father was reduced, but the condition of the father felt increasingly tormented.
Ammar went to Jakarta with a heavy heart. He did not want to leave his father just like that, but the demands of college required him to immediately complete his thesis hoping to be free soon and be able to accompany his father at all times.
“Le, don't take too long. It might be the last time you saw your father.”
The message continued to ring in Ammar's mind. In the taxi, on the plane, even as he tried to focus on re-deepening his thesis material, the words continued to haunt him. Hundreds of times he tried to divert by playing games and joking with his friends, still nil, no results. Father's words seemed to be a sign that the call was coming soon.
