LOCKDOWN A Love And Covid - 19
Episode 2 loss
The thick fog welcomed our car, the day was getting late afternoon making the fog block the bright view as I saw in the last memory two years ago.
In the north of Batang Regency, it is at the Blado sub-district point Pagilaran village where everyone knows the agro-tourism of tea mountain, the land of birth of father and mother. Everyone in this small village worked in a tea factory, they harvested tea shoots every day, starting when the sun appeared, and fog ran up into the air. That's when women here carry a large basket behind their backs that are as strong as steel, with rough rocky roads, as I remember when carrying a bike here my tires erupted stuck in sharp rocks, he said,yet I still see some people walking ignoring the pain without wearing any footwear. They flocked to the house, one of which I knew some of the row of them who got out of the way when our car passed was my neighbor, the horn of Mr. Parman greeted them. They politely bowed in appreciation of our car that filled this little road.
Grandma's house was on a hill, at the top people called it. Dad built a villa that is often rented for people's weddings in Batang Regency. And just behind the villa peak there is a simple house, facing towards the hill that looks young greenish, they shoots tea leaves without pesticides. We went down, my tiredness was not much but this limp could not be denied, I saw garbage food scattering under the under the car seat.
"let me just mbak who clean.." it feels reluctant to get an offer so from Mr. Parman, but because of my uncomfortable body condition I agree to his offer. A row of red daisies looks charming, on the side of the daisies that are blooming, tomorrow it will bloom, never absent I see a neatly arranged red rose. My mind was immediately drawn to his clean and shady face, my first brother who was very fond of decorations and flowers, who wisely wanted to stay near Grandma in order to take care of her, taking a moment to entertain the elderly woman who is more than half a century old, the grandmother who is now 66 years old is still the same as before, his smile widened with thousands of folds under his cheekbones forming wrinkles. Her hair was already bleached but her zeal to keep searching for life never stopped. But I know that over the last 4 months he is no longer undergoing the activity of finding young tea shoots to be deposited to the factory. Grandma hugged me with an endless longing, many times grandma kissed me, just like when I was married, she never got tired of pecking my cheeks.
"i miss nduk nduk.." honestly he said while patting my thighs as we sat side by side. Her eyes are narrowing now, her skin is folding, unlike last year when I saw her on my wedding day.
"halah, definitely nggowo snack." grandmother commented when she saw Mr. Parman take down some plastic from his hand that was taken from a crowded and crowded trunk.
"mboten nopo nopo buk (not what buk). Just a little." answered the mother with a laugh, I don't know what he laughed at, but there was no funny in our conversation. I just exchanged looks with my grandmother and smiled.
Maybe you told grandma about Farhan's disappearance, which is why she was so trying not to ask me anything until the three of us fell silent. Silent
"when did Nur get here, Grandma?" I asked after a long time we observed looking at the entire corner of the house and fell silent.
"in a moment, your mother must have come. She misses you she said." the accent of the kejawen grandmother is very visible. He threw a glance outwards, towards the sun that was sinking, diving into a sea of clouds covered in mist.
Time passed by, I was sure that my mother and grandmother would not speak for fear of letting go of my pain. Inevitably I have to start it, so that grandma does not mind asking and I do not mind to answer and even tell stories.
"mas Farhan has not been able to come here grandma." hearing my voice mom and grandma turned towards me, I pressed my lips and smiled at them. I continued
"even though Farhan wanted to come here, but not yet. On March 6th, I went to the airport, uh, Farhan didn't come.." I tried to stay this way and smiled without a puddle in my eyes.
Strong strong strong my spirit in a sick heart. I stroked my stomach, there was a fetus in my womb now, I smiled happily no longer a compulsion or a lie. I'm there for my fetus and for Firhan who's far away.
"iyo already, ndak opo opo tho nduk." replied the grandmother then laughed, when there was nothing funny I had a point of view with the mother and nyengir showed my line of teeth to the grandmother.
The cold on the mountain of tea is more sticky, slightly different from the pine forest I stopped by. The sight after sunset was only a thick fog, it stuck in the air adding to the excitement at night greeting. The thing I hate the most is darkness, I'm phobic with darkness, my breath often falters if I'm in darkness.
After the maghrib prayer was heard from the car outside, I could guess it was the sound of Nurhan's car, the calm doctor who was opposite me but always close to me. Friends, friends, brothers and a good role model for me, Abdurrahman and Azalea. We always shared a laugh when the homecoming season came, gathered in this house.
But whether for this time, I think covid will be our main reason to negate the entire agenda of the big family in Pagilaran, fertile and prosperous land.
Brother's eyes were puffy, the fog did not block his reddened grim face, like he had cried out loud. She hugged me and was silent for so long, I felt her warm tears seeping in the babydoll cloth I was wearing.
"where's mama..?" he asked after being satisfied to hold me, my tears welled up and watched him have to be sobbed, which I did not know the cause of his crying. My brother was the only one who called mom with the call of mama, half running my brother rushed inside.
I smiled at the two knights who were getting bigger with the funny steps of wanting to enter Grandma's house.
"here first dong, kiss aunty.." I asked. Aydin the bushy-haired man who was now six years old sulked spoiled, reddening his cute lips. And Fatih just followed my orders
"onty onty, in the pelut onty there is dede bayik..?" fatih asked, funny lips recite the sentence O, the roundabout is almost perfect. I giggled at her words. I crouched down in front of Fatih, looking at her cute face and packing right.
"iyya, will you hold the baby?" bargaining with Fatih, he shuddered.
"no, jeyek." said Fatih and passed away from me with his taunts. Aydin was still daydreaming to see the flowers planted by his mother.
"what is Aydin?" acting like an adult, he did not look at me at all and just replied casually
"aunty's work.."
"why cry mas?" I was curious, I approached him who was playing a rose leaf on the terrace.
the words of Aydin grabbed the bottom of my heart, the pain scratches became a wide wound, in my heart that was broken to pieces, limp wanted to stand up, did not feel my tears hard. I poured in, sobbing with my mother, sister and grandmother. Those of us who are not their parents are very lost. How does Rahman and Nuri feel as parents. God tested them by losing two coolers in one eye.
The atmosphere became quiet, sadness enveloped us, Mr. Parman was not allowed to go home, because there was no man in this house, husband mbak Nurhan had to stand in the hospital, he said, he was specifically assigned to treat covid positive patients.
The wall clock shows at 09:00 pm, these eyes are hard closed, the sound of sobbing mother still I hear once. My gaze was gazing up into the sky of my room which was protected by a light green painted ceiling. I breathed heavily many times. Trying to be tough and not sad excessively. Given that my fetus needs my support, I get used to not being too enthusiastic when faced with grief. Its presence can reduce wounds. Create new spirit energy. My phone does not vibrate at all, either because of notifications from the news or messages from social media. I suspect my phone died in this cold place.
My phone screen turned on. It still lights up with a slightly reduced battery. It's just the grandma area with minimal signal. No message or call, not even news spam can appear because there is only an edge signal in the mountains.
As time passed, my brother and two of our little soldiers were in one room, and he told me a lot of things he didn't tell me on the phone. About her miss, about her husband, and about the covid that shook the world.
Our discussion widened as he told me about one virus from this wuhan.
"despite the deaths of Azalea and Abdur by accident. It's good that they are buried using a procedure for handling covid patients." sidelines my brother while taking a deep breath without me asking why he returned to explain.
"for we never know whether they are infected or not. Whether the virus or not. Because their case is on the road in a big city. And in the crowd can't be sure of course who is sensing the virus and who is carrying it." he said as angry at himself.
I respect my brother's opinion, he's a doctor and he knows more about it. I know now how scared she would be if she were to be abandoned by her husband who was in the world of viruses. Some doctors in Indonesia have died because they contracted the virus from patients. One story that made me cry, a doctor his wife was pregnant with her child was small, he waved from the gate, did not dare to approach with his family to keep. And it turned out to be their final encounter. For a few days later they were told that the doctor was covid positive, and mngkarantia was independent in the hospital, but his condition worsened, he entered the ICU and died.
The saddest death is the death of covid-19, if the patient goes into the ICU room then there is no hope we can see it again. The process of bathing until the funeral is carried out by medics. Pathetic right?
So the last time we were with a covid-19 patient was before he entered the ICU. Right, that was the moment of the sad parting. My tears welled up remembering that very sad true story.
Voices were heard outside, like people coming and telling stories out there. Grandma opened the door allowing some guests to enter the house to warm themselves in front of the fireplace. I didn't dare get out of the room, either out of fear or out of watching too many horror movies.
"i take care of Fatih" I replied as my mother told me and my brother to leave the room.
Five minutes passed, I couldn't stand it myself. I finally went out into the crowded living room. Everyone told me how it broke the cold silence of our home. Unless we were grieving, grandma was daydreaming, my brother was down, my mother had tears in her eyes many times. This month will be a bitter history in our family, we are tested with a lot of loss.
The sound of the car coming again, some people who had been silent from the story immediately rushed out, my brother ran through the crowd, when the corpse removed from the white car grandma fell to the ground, he was unconscious, he said,people shouted at each other for help, as well as Nuri's bulik who was walking limped in the help of the neighbors of the house,her tears did not stop and my mother found her crying out loud with the screams of people.
I was cornered in the corner of the room, looking at the two frozen bodies that could no longer speak.
Swallowing spit very hard, too many stories that we have experienced, I never thought that the mas Abdu and Azalea would precede me to meet Him.
*If I die later
Is everyone going to be like this?
As I see it in front of me
Grandma fainted, mother cried, my brother fell silent and father and om Rahman stared blankly ahead.
And my husband, was he strong enough to accompany that time?
The time when I will meet my creator.
Will he feel like he lost me too?
Where is Farhan Mas?
Mas Abdu and Azalea died.
I want to tell you that*.
