One was happened when I just got back home from visiting my uncle (from my father’s family) and we talked that evening. She was just asking, how was the trip. And I started babbling, speak louder, suddenly cry between emotional words I never knew I had in me.
My father, who once believed that his duty to be ‘The Man of The House’ (given by my grandfather) now growing old in a very sensitive and lonely life. He gets happy with simple things, but also gets easily confused with things around. Sometimes I found him staring at nothing, like wondering where he is now. And if things matter anymore.
It’s not easy to offer him helps, suggestions or anything for that matter. But he always be there for me whenever I need him. He got stressed by just watching news and smiling happily simply when he opened the door for me when I visited him. All in all, his contradictions means nothing for me, as I always miss him everywhere, anywhere.
I stayed at my uncle’s house for quite a while, and see enough what I have to see. I’ve heard about stories before, drama from this big family my father ‘lead’ from my brother. In June, I saw my self, like, almost everything.
I barely care enough about warm-fuzzy moments with family events. I guess I’m trained to ignore that kind of stuff and believe things like that only exist in movies. My life surrounded with a lot of people, coming from everywhere, but with time, they became my real family. So basically, I don’t give any sh*t about ‘The Man of The House’-crap, taking care of brothers and sisters because the perfect parents told me to. No, I’d rather watch 10 seasons of ‘Friends’ all over again, trust me.
How my father’s brothers and sisters acted on him, trust me, once again, not my business. Each person has their own life, their own brains and their own way at living their own life.
It is how their actions (not always addressed to my father) affected my father, that matters to me.
I will write the details later (to open up these unnecessary secrets), but my father, my lovely father, put my mother and his children as number 3. As for number one is his big family, and number two is his mother. I mean, well, isn’t that how family supposed to be nowadays?…
So there, when he has to choose, he stayed for his big family, and I don’t know what’s the word, abandoned us (my mother, me and my brother) behind.
So I always have reasons to get mad at him, at my father. Even with the silliest way, I still have right to come to him and ask for justice. But I don’t, and we won’t.
What happened now is, oh people say there’s always (at least) one black sheep in every family. In my father’s family, there’s more than one. I can say, one is a trouble maker, and still. And another is, I don’t know, turned into someone else, someone I don’t respect anymore.
I told my mother that evening, I only got two hands. If I can, I want to take him away and introduce him to people who will appreciate him better. I’d love to share a house with him and talk about Life, without worrying one of his little brother will hurt him in any possible way. If I can, I only want to take him away from those bastards.
My father is not perfect. He’s far from it. He made mistakes. Not everything he said is true, I know this. But I wish, those bastards can understand his feelings a little. He’s not gonna live forever anyway, you know. How hard it is to respect your own brother who always be there for you when you were little? Simply just speak and act normal? If my father talks bullshit, those bastards can go, and should never come back.
I will take him, you know. Far away from all of you, who treated him bad. I’m on my way there, to take care of him with my bare hands, trust me. And I won’t allow you to even come to his funeral, no, don’t you dare.
Because, like my mom said, my father treated us (my mother, me and my brother) bad, and put all of you in the highest position. And now you dump him, like he’s worth nothing anymore, just because you made all the money in the world? Send me all of your money, you will see if I buy your apologize.
We both cried, my mom and I. For the first time, she listened to me shouting and crying, throwing tantrums, for the first time she saw me hurted, because my father hurted.
Two was happened right before I went to Bali in October. I told him that I got scammed, and I lost my saving. Money’s gone, but that isn’t the real issue. I now, learned that I also surrounded by bad people. I kept them for many reasons. Because they’re my friends, because they’re my family, because I believe that he/she is actually a good person.
As I looked into her eyes this morning, I told her, I’m ready to die. To give a full report of what I’ve done and what I haven’t done and what I should’ve done in this 30 years of my life.
I told her, I’m not as strong as she is. I wish I am, but I’m not.
I told her, if I’m on my deathbed and she still wants me to stay alive, it will be for taking care of my father. It will be one sure thing, to take him away, away, away from bad people.
She told me, ‘Alright. I prepared food for your father. Go visit him and take the food with you. If you gonna stay until night, take some money to buy dinner. Be sure to let me know first thing if you’re staying there tonight. I will make sure that you’re ready to die. In the meantime, don’t let your father go anywhere without any of you (me and my brother) come with him. ‘
Silent for a while, then she touched my hair and whisper, ‘You are not God, honey. Don’t push your self too hard. All you have to do is keep moving on.’
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.