
A beautiful cemetery in the outskirts of Yogyakarta. A breeze shook the lush trees around the cemetery. The silent voice only sounded the squeaking sound of a sparrow perched on a tree branch.
Yudhistira stepped up, towards a location that he had not visited for several months because he was too busy working so he did not have free time to visit one of the tombs of someone who was very meritorious in his life. A beautiful woman who is none other than her own biological mother.
"Hello, Ma," said Yudhsitira. After learning that the figure of the woman in the photo that Latifah had given him was her biological mother, she decided to call Annchi with the title 'mama' just like her call to Latifah.
Get rid of dry leaves and weeds that begin to lengthen. "I already know my true self. Mama Latifah told me everything."
Lips trembled violently as they recalled how Annchi suffered while pregnant. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to serve you. I'm sorry I never found out how Mama was related to Papa Erlan's family." Yudhistira paused for a moment, inhaling as much oxygen to fill the air supply in the lungs. "If I had known this truth, I might have done my duty as a child, praying that Mama might God put Mama in a proper place by His side."
Yudhishthira fell silent, then rubbed the tears that began to wet his cheeks. "Although it's too late, I hope you will still accept my token of devotion as a child." Then, he turned his hands up and began to offer a do'a to the Creator, asking forgiveness for all the sins Annchi had committed during his life. Yudhishthira also prayed that God would put the woman who had risked her life so that she could come into the mortal world.
Swiping the headstone, get rid of the fine dust that sticks there. "Ma, thank you for bringing me into this world. Even though Mama couldn't take care of me and raise me in the end, but your sacrifice will never be forgotten. I will always remember my whole life until the end."
Stop saying for a while. Staring at the tombstone with a pushy look. Breathing stinged, the chest of fireworks and the nose also feels sour. It is hard to hold back tears not to keep flowing through the cheeks.
"Do you know that Mama Latifah's disease is not treatable? The doctor said, We can do nothing but wait and try to prepare ourselves to accept the destiny of the Creator."
"Hearing the news made me feel like a useless person because I couldn't do anything when my job was a doctor, but the proof was that when Mama Latifah was sick, I couldn't help her. It's useless to be a doctor when I heal my parents just can't."
"I've lost Mama and will soon lose the figure of the woman I consider to be my own Mama. You both mean so much in my life, but why leave me alone on this earth? Have I ever made a mistake to live in solitude?" isak Yudhistira was so sad. As the strong wind blew piercing the skin, so were the words of the man's outpouring of heart taken out. He tried to toughen up, but when faced with a reality that would later take someone loved the power as if it disappeared just like that.
"I'm sorry I became such a weak man. But, I don't know what else to pour out my deepest heart. All this time I tried to smile, act as a whimper and seem disrespectful, it was all I did just to cover my feelings. Feelings of sadness and fear of losing someone forever."
After feeling satisfied, blowing his heart out in front of his mother's belly, Yudhistira took a deep breath. His feelings were much calmer as before.
Maybe some people think that men should not cry and seem weak, easily oppressed and not gentle. If so, then why are tears created if a man cannot cry? Doesn't everything that God created have its own benefits for His creation?
"I'm going back to the hospital. Poor Erina was left alone there. Next time I'll come here again to bring special marigolds for Mama." Yudhsitira kissed the tombstone lovingly. "Rest in peace, my dear mother."
Yudhistira. Then look back at the gravestone before leaving the diet. "See you later, Mama."
Yudhishthira walked down a path made especially for pilgrims. A gust of wind during the day blew away the strands of the man's hair. The atmosphere is typical of funerals in general. Yet he had no fear at all of being among the many people lying lifeless.
Before long, Yudhistira had returned to her foster home. The white color motorcycle he parked in the yard of a simple one-story house. Remove the helmet attached to the head to protect it from impact in the event of an accident.
"Who are they? What are you doing here?" gumam Yudhistira. The two eyebrows intertwined a confused sign. Even so, he kept swinging his feet towards the terrace of his house.
"Sorry, who are you? And ... what is the need to come to my house?" ask Yudhistira politely. Although he does not recognize the figure in front of him, but he is still polite, friendly and tries to keep thinking positively even though his head is filled with millions of questions.
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