Just a Bond

Pilgrimed

“Where are you going, Wa?” As soon as the room came out, Father's question greeted me.

Closing the door to the room, I turned to Dad. “Najwa equals Mas Farhan wants to mother's grave, Yah.”

A moment after I answered, my face seemed to change slightly. I know, Dad must still be harboring the sadness of Mom's departure.

"Dad all right?"

My father raised his bowed face, then put his best smile on me.

Dad nodded. “Dad is okay, son. You're just as careful Farhan, yeah."

"Do you want to come with us there?"

Who knows if Dad wants to. Although she had been gone for five years, Father rarely went to her tomb. Dad always said it was not strong to hold the sadness if you had to face the grave of Mom. Father had said, when he remembered Mom, then the guilt of his departure also filled his mind. Some kind of trauma, so. So, the only way he used to channel the yearning to his beloved woman was through prayer from home.

My brothers and I did not insist. Because we understand how Dad feels. Also, instead of causing other problems, mending avoids, right? Besides, I'm sure Dad won't forget about Mom. Father must have always prayed for Mother, although he rarely met Mother directly to his tomb.

"No, Najwa. You're the same Farhan."

And the same answer came back from Dad. The difference is, this time I'm with Mas Farhan. Not with Mas Reza - the most frequent - or Mas Gibran, Weny and Rifka.

I lowered my head for a moment, took a strong breath and then exhaled slowly, then looked back at Father's face.

"Dad still often feel guilty with Mom?"

Again Dad smiled in response to my question, then shifted the subject.

"Once, there go. When you're done, go home quickly, yes. Your sister wants to come too he said.”

“Weny what is Rifka, Well?”

“Two.” My face also shone happily. Hearing my two sisters who used to like being nosy to me it feels very happy. Uh, so can't wait to see them again. I haven't been with them in a long time either.

“Honey, not yet?”

Ah, I forgot that Mas Farhan was waiting outside. Be prepared to talk to me later. Real long.

“Dek, where are you going? Tuh, called your husband.” Mas Gibran came while carrying the sleeping Sheila.

“Iya, Dik's. Farhan seemed to have been sitting on the front porch chair. Wait for you, huh?” ma'am Diva who came after Mas Gibran.

I was grinning wide. “Eh, yes, Ma'am. We're going to Mom's grave, Ma'am, Mas.”

“Udah hunted, sana. Poor your husband.” After saying that, Mas Gibran pounced to his room to put Syeila to bed, followed by Mbak Diva behind him. My sister-in-law said she wanted to prepare warm water for her children to take a bath after waking up.

Forgetting about Mbak Diva and Mas Gibran who were again able to make me jealous because of the harmony of the two, I turned to Father, then regretted it. “Najwa says, Yah.”

“Titip greetings for Mom, yes, Wa.” I smiled and looked at the father who said it. A longing sound was in my father's eyes. "Say, I'm sorry you're not ready."

Nodding first, I replied, “Iya, Well. Najwa will send greetings from his soulmate.”

...***...

“Sorry for long, Mas. I was still wondering about Dad.”

The tall man sitting on the wooden chair in front of my house turned his head. Without answering with a word, he then got up and moved.

“Oh. You're in front, I'm coming.”

I shook firmly.

“If you're behind, how do you do, Najwa? I don't know where to go. Come on, don't get used to being a complicated person. We do not leave because you protest a lot.”

Hadeh, Man.

"It's not a protest, Mas. But tell me. Please, yeah. Different, different."

"Yes, yes."

“A wife is her position if not behind husband, it's beside her, Mas.” I put my steps right next to him. “Well, kayak gini.”

“Ya already, whatever. Okay.”

I put a sweet smile on these lips to see it just resigned.

God, I'm really happy with all this. If only every day your attitude was like this, I would definitely be the happiest woman, Mas. I can feel the attention from you like this. You're not angry with me either, it makes my life serene, Mas.

As I said earlier, the location of the cemetery around my residence is not like the public cemetery of the city on the side of the highway and can be reached by vehicle, such as, we walked to the cemetery in the north corner of my house.

Along the way we passed quietly, passing the paths in the middle of fields that are overgrown with various kinds of plants, ranging from corn, banana trees, papaya trees and others. Mas Farhan with such habits, and I .. somehow it feels lazy to invite Mas Farhan to talk. In my heart, I also ceaseless because I can enjoy the beautiful natural atmosphere like this. The air is fresh, the leaves are verdant, not only soothing to the eyes, but soothing to the heart. There was a calmness that penetrated into the heart, even though our journey was not colored by chatter.

As soon as I arrived at Mother's grave, I called out my greetings, then took a position to sit east of Mother's tomb. It turned out that Mas Farhan was also following me sitting next to me. We sit side by side facing the Qibla, then unite the mind to convey prayers and greetings to Mother. Mas Farhan led the fatihah, which was followed by the recitation of the surah Yasin and tahlil.

Fifteen minutes later, we finished our prayer. I'm still sitting staring at Mom's grave.

Today Najwa came with Mas Farhan, Ma'am. I'm sure you know who he is, right?

My head is getting deeper. Tears have also been shed on the eyelids.

Pray for Najwa, Mom. Pray for Najwa to be strengthened in the face of Mas Farhan's attitude that is still often changing. Pray for Najwa to melt her heart, ma'am. Because honestly, Najwa loved her very much.

I wiped the tears that began to drip profusely soaked the cheeks.

Oh, aye. I send greetings to Mom. Dad said, sorry he's not ready. But Najwa believes Dad must have missed Mom.

Slowly, the past memories of him come back to the brain. I let it play automatically there. How gently my mother educated her children, the love she gave us, how she loved Dad as her partner began to be illustrated. She is a strong woman who is a source of inspiration and my role model. He was never tired, no matter what he did for us. Not inferior to what Dad did for us. Anyway, Mom and Dad are the greatest parents for us.

All the memories that remind me of him present a variety of feelings, ranging from happy, feeling very lucky to have it, feeling guilty because during his life I often unconsciously hurt his feelings, he said, until the things I still remember so much until this moment, when he will be gone forever. The feeling of longing for his figure also began to stir in the chest. If time can be repeated, it would be like to return to the times we were together.

“Mother and Dad want to go to Surabaya again?”

...***...

Yuhu, I updated again. Ha-has. Pleased no? Happy dong. No time? Uh.

Sweet greetings from me. Don't forget to leave a trail of your appreciation, let me rekindle the update, yes. See you's.

Sumenep, Madura, East Java

Thursday, 29 July 2021