Posts Tagged With: family

Wanted, but nowhere to find.

In the big family of my mom’s side, where you can find many-many kinds of family drama-and we now have learned to laugh over them-, me and my cousins have a similar symptoms of a fugitive: wanted, but nowhere to find.

When I was 8, as I’m told by my nanny (at the time) and neighbors, I had a pile of clothes wrapped in a big fabric, we called it here ‘buntelan kain’. When I remember that I had a younger brother, I made a higher pile of the ‘buntelan kain’. Here’s a simple visual brief of the first kind of bag I ever know beside my yellow Tuxedosam school bag.


Image is from a website:

Now, imagine that high pile, put them all on a big fabric and wrap them up. More or less, is going to look like this.

Well, at the time it was a lace fabric, leftover from one of my mom’s (she was a tailor) client. And in a way you can put the ‘buntelan kain’ on your shoulder. So you, would look like this, er, more or less. And yes, most of the time, I didn’t wear any sandals, socks, foot wrap. Just went total on Tom Sawyer mode.


Tom Sawyer

So every other night, I would pack my things and wait until dark and silent, so I can walk out the door and leave my house. The funny thing is, at first my nanny was panicked to not find me on the bed. So she looked for me everywhere in the house. She knows very well about my up and down moods, how easily disappointed I was. She remembered that and started to try to find me outside the house. Her works wasn’t really hard, because then she found me in front of my house, falling asleep with my head on the ‘buntelan kain’. Wondering in her mind and holding her laugh inside, it was 3 am, she said, my nanny carried me back on bed. And I woke up innocently, didn’t remember anything about it.

For a while later on, she asked her son (who is 7-10 years older than me), to stake out on me every night. It went on for years. Some nights were very dramatic with tears and get tired my self, fell asleep inside a little booth where all the local security worked, made friends with troubled teenager in the area (was occassionally drunk and very chatty like crazy to me at the time)-this boy turned out to be a good man in the end-, seeing and hearing things I never thought I would at night (and this no means in whatsoever meanings of ghost)-never understood what they were, actually-, and found my own peace sleeping on the road side under the stars. I was just disappointed with too many mosquitos surrounding me.

Almost everyone knows, I’ve been learned, including my neighbours. But my own parents didn’t. When they knew it, I already done with the phase.

Later on I’ve learned that at the same time, my cousin, DD, who is 3 years older than me, struggling with the ‘dynamic’ of life. She put her stuff in a suitcase, yes a real suitcase, and put it at the corner of her room. When she was 18, she put her passport inside the suitcase also. She brought the suitcase to her friend’s home, put it there, so ‘in case of emergency’ she said, she can use the suitcase to start a new life somewhere else-not home.

My brother has a rather different kind of symptom. He bought like 5 or 9 motorcycle helmet and put them like everywhere. He planted couple shirts here and there to managed to be able to go anywhere needed.

There was a time when I myself bring my passport everywhere in my bag. My boyfriend at the time found out about this, and he gently asked me one night, “Babe, are we going somewhere?”

I don’t know what happened. I just love to have my choices in my bag. The consequences that no one could understand (really) about my habit to bring my toiletries everywhere everytime was more like a privilege for me. To feel freedom, or at least a sense of it. Especially when I know I actually had no other choice but to stay and deal with whatever hell in front of me. Then I put my passport inside my bag, and there was born, a new choice, for me to consider on.

For some of my friends, this makes me a fugitive. They believe that I’m wanted (by them, from time to time), but I was never anywhere to find, physically. Well, here goes the hard-truth-fact, along with the irony for you. It wouldn’t matter wether I was there or not with you guys. Or with anybody else. We all know that. Life goes on.

Life happens.

And I will still carry that passport in my bag.

So keep up, my beautiful friends, I will see you when I see you ^_^

me and my new version of 'buntelan kain'

me and my new version of ‘buntelan kain’

Categories: mess | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

the love that will kill you

She is a 27 year old woman, just graduated from her second college. Father just passed away, mom own a little local shop at home, to feed 6 people in house, all in one time. Older brother works everywhere to put more dime, other brother has mental illness, sister in law purely taking care of the house, while the little niece, just grown to 5 years old.

Economy never once crashed like now, and she has a dream to be a Film Director someday. There’s sadness inside the house, regrets and non-stop big wonders born all the time within it. Young people, must stay at home, put aside their dreams, in order to keep this family survive. Because mom started to silent her words and no longer able to sleep in her bed alone, without her late husband.

Physically attack, I believe is everyone issues in this little world, somehow, its a basic needs in a family. But mentally attack, which keep continues even when needs screaming to be fulfil from out there and you simply can’t, start to feel like ridiculous.

You’re grieving, that’s understandable. You need sometimes to put back all the broken pieces of the family member’s hearts, before continuing this journey. Okay. You shut down all of your doors and windows, to make peace with your anger inside, fine. But to shot down your own life this way, I dont know.

She has always been all the good side of my self, people loves to work with her (more than with me). Somehow I know, she will make a good Film Director. Lately she’s been rejecting a lot of job offers, work chances, put anger for those friends who acts like no friends (that we usually didn’t care at all), lately she lost her mind. She cant feel anything at all. She’s losing perspective.

I told her to get out of the house, and start to build her own life. I’ll cover what she need for a while and she can go back home anytime she want. All that she need o do is to take that single step to get out. Not to leave or abandone off course, but in a total awareness that life goes on, and so should she. If this is a mess, then she should figure out how to fix it, especially when she find it hard to deal with it.

Yesterday she told me that her mom wouldn’t let her. I told her, not any single mom would let her children step out of the house, that’s what moms do. It’s their job. But she must take that step and go with her own life, otherwise I don’t know. I don’t know.

I took me years before my mom let me get out of my house. And she never able to stop me to go out. Even when she finally did let me go out, I know she was sad, and I caused her pain to worry about me every night, but this is something I have to do. Time don’t make her go softly when I told her I’m moving away from the house (again & again), but that was a step away from the house, not from her. So she had no reason to get mad at me. I gave her no chance to fight my will. Not at that time and not even now.

My concerns to her (my friend’s condition) is that this big love she has from the grieving family members, will kill her. And that would be the most sharp knife you can use to kill. It will go deep in silent and you won’t recognize your own blood until you’re losing your own sight and died instantly, in the arms of the people you love, the people who use your love to shot you down.

Yes, this is for you, my dear friend. Please, know in advance that you will be okay. I won’t let things bad happens for you, for you have so many to offer to this world. I hope someday soon, somehow, you will be able to take that step outside. You owe yourself that chance.

In the meantime, take care. GBU.

Categories: thoughts | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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