It’s Over Now..

As my Grandpa passed away by 2003, she found out that her life would never be the same. She could not accept the grief, each morning she still prepared cookies and tea on my Grandpa’s drawer as if he was still there. She kept her mourning for years, she could not bear the reality, and her unacceptance turned into a true loneliness.

She was a mother of nine live children and 27 grandchildren, but she could not enjoy her family. She pushed her children to live with her and while all of them rejected the terrible idea, she thought her children did not love her anymore. All of her children offered her to live with each of them, but she refused to leave her old house coz she believed that “her husband was still alive and she must stay with him”..

Time has passed us by but she was standing still. Her memory got reduced, she felt disoriented, and she did not want to pray. She began to forget the name of her lovely grandchildren, then I found out that it was coz the diabetes had damaged her memory nerves. But frankly she never forgot me. Each time I visited her in Jakarta, she was always smiling at me and said, “It’s been long time not to see you, Doctor Vicky.”
She never called me Vicky. She always called me Doctor Vicky.

Then I was gone around. I went to Cali for work, I went to Surabaya for school. From my Mom’s mails and phonecalls, I heard that Mom periodically took my Grandma from Jakarta to our house in Bandung just for babysitting her. “Your aunt’s been trying to feed her but she always refuses. But she never rejects if I’m the one who feed her,” said my Mom on the phone.

But she never felt comfy in any of her children’s house. She always wanted to return to my late Grandpa’s place. We’ve been worried coz none of my big family lived in the house coz each of us has owned place by ourselves. Who’s gonna take care the old demented diabetic lady if she lived alone?

Last year I got my two weeks vacation from school and I went home to Bandung. There my Mom was caring my Grandma again, and she kept complaining pain while she was trying to sit down. My aunt told us that my Grandma incredibly slipped on the bathroom about weeks before, but she was not examined by any physicians coz she had no car to bring her. Then finally I took my Grandma to an orthopedic hospital in Bandung. They captured her hip and found out a big surprise, she got fracture on her buttock bone. And any surgery was in vain coz she was elderly and diabetic. Dubious ad malam prognosis.

My residency training school pushed me to be ready-for-working about along five years, it meant that family is the second issue that I should care about. No Idul Fitri vacations each year, I only could meet my parents one night each time I flew to Bandung. No time to visit my Grandma, nor my aunties, nor my cousins, so I just held our relationship by Twitter and Facebook. Last year I had my little chance for Jakarta, so I got myself to my Grandma’s house. She was there, she probably only weighed about 50 pounds, and she did not recognize me anymore.
“Who are you?” She wondered.
“I am Vicky,” I whispered. “Your granddaughter.”
She still did not remember. “Who is that?”
Then my tears fell down and I held her face. She totally had forgotten me.
But she said, “Hey.. Don’t cry, kiddo..”

Today, as I was attending the lecture in my school, I was almost falling asleep to listen for the speech and I drew my attention to my phone. I found out two notifications on the home display, one was my sister’s messenger and the other one was from Facebook.
My sister: “Has Daddy told you?”
Me: “Not yet.” About what? Then I switched to the Facebook notification.

It was my cousin’s status update, “Farewell, Granny.. 😥 ”

I almost got choked. Soon I switched to my messenger. My sister has written, “I’m gonna ring you up”
Me: “No!” I thought I would burst my tears over if she phoned me in the middle of the class. “What time was it?”
My sister: “12.45”
I looked at my watch. An hour ago?!
My sister: “I’m gonna send you her picture.”

Then she sent me our grandma’s picture. Her eyes was closed, she was covered by her old jarik, and I recognized the top of the bed as mine. She had died on my bed, I believe. Mom always laid our Grandma on my bedroom each time she brought Grandma to our house in Bandung. My bedroom was almost never been used coz I have gone to Surabaya.

Then I remember the time when I cried by holding my Grandma last year. I knew that moment, that it would be the last time I saw her. I just never found out that she would leave this way.

I remember she brought me shoes when I was going for vacation from Jakarta to Malang while I was 5.
I remember she and my Grandpa was playing on Pangandaran beach when I was 10, they sat and let the water covered all of their bodies.
I remember she took care of me when I was 15 while my parents went to Mecca, and she entertained me when my aunt abused my house.
I remember she lied to the airport security at Bali when she was caught up bringing a knife in her handbag, then she finally confessed, “It was my hubby’s, he died months ago coz of heart attack..”
I remember she was happy to see me coming home after been working at Cali for year, and when I gave her a bingka, she tasted and said, “It’s not good.” I laughed and I found out that it was descent.

I remember her disorientation, her dementia, her diabetes, and she could not ever leave her wheel chair. She almost always cried of depression, and I was worried about her. I’m planning to get married next year and I wonder if she would keep depressed in my wedding. She could not even dress herself. She could not even eat without any rice fall to her lap. Would she stay on the corner watching a bride that she could not recognize as her granddaughter? Or would she get tantrum in the party and pushed my uncle to leave the place just for driving her home while all people want was just enjoying the fun?

The Lord has solved those questions.

She is 88. Old enough.

Farewell, Grandma. I will miss you so bad. 😥

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