Just a Bond

About Mother

"Mother to Surabaya again today?"

I was sitting on the sofa while watching television with Mas Reza, turned my head.

"Hey, there's Grandma's granddaughter apparently," Mother said to Nayla - Mas Gibran's ten-month-old son - as she gently kissed his forehead. "You're here alone, Gibran?"

"Yes, Mom. Diva's taking care of something at home."

"Be careful if you take the car with your child."

"Yes, Mom. Sure." Mas Gibran smiled, while the child in his arms was just silent to watch the interaction between his father and grandmother. "What did you do to Surabaya?"

"Oh, that. There's a coworker Dad wants to see. Just talk about Dad's furniture business. He said he needed some typical Madurese RT tools."

Mas Gibran just nodded, and me and Mas Reza followed in the footsteps of Nayla, which was silent, just being the audience of the interaction show they both.

"Yes, Mom is leaving. Your father must have been waiting outside."

"Yes, Mom. Gibran saw that Dad was already his pikep."

Mom smiled. "Gibran, I'm picking up your sisters, yes. No matter how busy you are in your wife's house, go here, look at your father and brothers."

My forehead shriveled at Mother's words. Somehow, it feels awkward when Mom suddenly ordered so.

Gibran moved out of our house two years ago. More precisely after marriage. Even so, he still came here often. Sometimes just alone, with Nayla as it is today, or the same as Mbak Diva at once. So what did you mean to say to Mas Gibran? Usually he just said, "Mother out of town. Take care of the house."

I saw Mas Gibran glancing at us before answering Mom's words. Maybe he was also confused like us because the look on his face was quite clear stating that.

"Gibrans?" call Mom again. My first brother turned to look at me while we were still shaking.

"Yes, Mom. God willing." Gibran finally answered with that sentence.

"You don't want to salim with Mom?" The woman looked towards us.

Why did you forget, anyway? Usually also if Mom says goodbye, I immediately regret it. Why is Reza too? Even go in bengong.

As there were instructions from the inner bond between me and Mas Reza, we compactly got up from where we were sitting earlier, then stepped closer to Mother.

"The salim is important. Suppose you don't have a chance to see Mom again how?"

Our steps suddenly came to a halt when we heard Mom's follow-up sentence. For a moment, I looked at each other with Mas Reza with lips still clenched.

There was no response from me or Mas Reza, Weny suddenly attacked Mother's speech just now.

"What mom, anyway? That's just hanging out." My youngest brother slightly thumped his lips.

"Nobody's struggling, Weny. You're right, aren't you, Mom?" Mom glanced at Mas Gibran, Mas Reza, then I alternately. However, not a single sentence was the answer. Mother's words were really unusual and seemed to make our brains suddenly blank.

"Aren't you the same mom, Wen?"

My gaze, Mas Reza and Mas Gibran who were originally focusing on Mom, turned to look at Weny.

"Weny's craving why else, ma'am?" ask Mas Reza.

"So because he was told to buy sugar to his shop Bu Ani. He was angry because he did not tell Najwa or Mbak Rifka."

Weny was singing her lips. Not annoyed, we even laughed at the attitude of the fifth child Father and Mother. Understandably, he's still an SD.

"Deck, Deck. There are you" said Mas Gibran, shaking his head.

"So far, who did you tell me?" Mas Reza asked, and I just kept quiet because I knew what happened earlier.

"Yes, I'm not telling her, Za. I told Rifka because Najwa helped me fold my clothes. But yes it is. Weny and Rifka'll be eleven twelve. He was also flirting at first."

"Eh, yes. By the way you guys didn't see your sister?" Mas Gibran who just got here obviously will not know where he is. I also after cleaning the folds of clothes and put in the closet, immediately approached Mas Reza and watched with him. As a result, the three of us nodded slowly.

"Weny didn't see where Rifka went?"

The headband that was the answer of my youngest brother instantly created a sad look on Mom's face.

Ah, I must have thought because Rifka was sulking.

"Mom, let's go. It's daylight, it's, you know." My voice sounded from outside the house.

The white-robed, middle-aged woman with a matching rectangular veil immediately clapped her forehead. The wistful roar that was created on his face changed in panic. It made us just smile a little. Mother's habits are like this. When you get together with your kids, you forget what you want.

"Yes, Dad. Just a little more." Despite answering so, Mother still flinched where she stood. Mother was still flailing all over the side of the house. Looks like there's something you're looking for. "Where are you, anyway, Ka?"

Justright. Turns out I'm looking for Rifka.

"You want Najwa to find Rifka first, ma'am?" bargained. Mom looked at me. "Mother seems to think like Rifka. Najwa find it, huh?"

"No, Wa. Mom's just leaving. Poor daddy you've been waiting outside."

Hearing Mom's reply, I just nodded small. We also took turns to greet Mom. But somehow, again I feel a different air when Mom is going to leave this cal, especially when our mother hugs us one by one, with a different message.

Mom first approached Gibran. Em, hugging from the side, anyway. Because Mas Gibran was holding Nayla.

"You should be able to stand next to Dad, stand by him and be the child he can count on." That's what Mom said to my first brother. And the response Mas Gibran gave was a small nod.

He also kissed Nayla's forehead, cheeks and crowns, then said, "So son of God, yes, son."

Then after that, I grabbed Mas Reza. My second brother who most do not like to be hugged by Mother because he said she was embarrassed, did not refuse. He was even seen hugging Mom's body. "You must also be reliable by Father. Help Mas Gibran take care of your brothers."

"Yes, Mom." Mas Reza.

Mom hugged Weny. "Don't be stubborn anymore. You should be like Najwa's mom. Girls talk smooth."

"Ready, First Lady!" Weny answered enthusiastically by putting her right hand on her forehead, like another flag ceremony. It seems that my sister doesn't feel what I feel.

Lastly, Mom hugged me. So tight. But before that, he still looked at me for a long time. There was a message that could not be taken from the look in his eyes.

"If there's anything, say Mas Reza or Mas Gibran. Don't ever get mad if Rifka's acting, yeah."

There are no words that can be spoken from this speech, I can only nod slowly. Mother then moved.

"Mother say hello to Rifka, yes. Say, I'm sorry."

...***...

Hi, I'm updating. Yeaay. Don't forget to leave a trace, yeah. Thank you so much for appreciating my work. Both from the support of likes, votes, your heartwarming comments, and their inputs as well. Oh, aye. Thank you for reading this work faithfully. Don't get tired of waiting, yeah. The journey of Mas Farhan and Najwa is still very long. He-he. Thank you very much anyway. Love you's.💙

Ah, yes. Just now in the comment notification, someone asked my Instagram and Facebook account, huh? But somehow his comments are not listed in the story. Has his comment been deleted, huh? I don't know.

If anyone wants to connect, continue to follow each other Instagram or Facebook accounts, it is okay. My Instagram account name @khairotinnajmah. And Facebook @Ntin. Okay fine!

Thank you, Guys.

Sweet greetings from the sweet author.

Sumenep, Madura, East Java

Friday, 30 July 2021