"Will we meet again?"
A voice that cannot be heard.
Where Our Blue Is - Tatsuya Kitani
Dear Mom,
The only piece of writing that took me longer to finish than this letter is my dissertation and I am not surprised. Writing this imaginary letter was tough. I was supposed to finish it as part of a tribute to you when we celebrated the memories of your life on the 40-day milestone since you passed away. But I could not do it. As much as I want to write an entirely cheerful story, a part of me still refuses to believe that you have gone forever. And in a way, that refusal is one of the main reasons why the tone of this letter ends up as it is today, almost two years since you passed away. In fact, I probably will never finish this letter if Dad did not make this post about you in his Instagram account. He truly understands me.
Indeed, a sudden and shocking death is often suffocating for the ones left behind compared to those stories where their loved ones succumbed to long-term illnesses. It was the inability to properly say goodbye to you that caught me in such a perfect storm and unless I can properly convey that indescribable feeling, or at least pretend that I am able to do so, I will never move on.
You know that I was never good in expressing my emotion through any means of communication other than writing. I just find the whole act to be beneath me and it is not your fault, you were always frustrated with my cold gesture. I was born with that kind of prejudice, being the most pompous kid that you've ever seen. Who else in their kindergarten days shushing their fellow mates for crying while complaining to the teacher on why we have these suckers around? Kids should have more dignity. But do you know why I never cry in front of anyone as a kid, or as a matter of fact, until today? Because I noticed that you were so proud of seeing me acting not like a little child despite being the youngest in the class. I suppose I took that gesture to an extreme level, a recurring problem whenever I start to gain obsession on a subject or an act. I just can't stop.
And even when I decide to express my inner feeling through my writings, it must also be in English because I find that writing about such deeply personal matters sounds so cringe in my native tongue. Plus I know that most Indonesian people will skip anything written in foreign language, it's a win-win situation for both me and my selected readers. I can work on my own therapy and I can get away for being my true self as I will usually have to put a lot of restraint if I write it in Indonesian language. So, imagine the dread that I faced when I was asked to write an introduction in Indonesian language for the opening of your special book of prayers and to give a speech about you in our event celebrating your memory months ago. The agony! But oh well, I digress.
I really want to say that I hate you for leaving us so soon and without a word, but I guess the one that I hate is myself. 41 years of living in this mortal plane and not once have I ever grieved for anyone. I mean, yes I felt a little bit sad for a couple of days when your mother and father (Oma and Opa) passed away back in 1994 and 2018, respectively. Gary Becker's death in 2014 would make a good example of a non-family member's death that somehow affected me. There is also a huge sense of sadness for the death of some of my beloved game and manga characters (which I cannot share here due to potential spoilers). They lingered for a while and then vanished for good while the beautiful memories remain.
But grieving? Come on, I am supposed to be the supreme leader with the blackest soul in this planet. Most people would believe that no amount of pain and suffering of other beings have ever moved my heart which is supposed to be colder than Boomerang Nebula's temperature and darker than Vantablack's shade of darkness. Well, they are not necessarily wrong. After all, I am the master of Schadenfreude, especially when it happens to my enemies and haters; seeing their frustration makes me smile from ear to ear, it is the fuel that keeps the everlasting fire in my soul burning so brightly. Yet, I grieve when you are no longer around. For the first time in my life, my hellfire furnace started to dim, and I am struggling to understand why such thing could happen.
Perhaps, this is all because I hate failure so much. I was basically brainwashed to be uber-competitive to a level where failure is never an option, where every problem can be settled, and where I basically can get things done all the time. So, when I don't manage to settle with my own feelings, to get rid the unbearable pain, I become immensely frustrated, angry, agitated. I mean, do you even know the extent of my herculean effort to keep me away from negative thoughts? The amount of work and extra curricular activities that I took these past two years would break another record. And for what?
Life is full with infinite possibilities, but death is final. I've experienced multiple personal life-changing challenges and no matter what the severity, I have always survived because I believe that as long as I am breathing, I can fix them, I can manage to deal with them, I can solve them! Yet, for you, no matter what I do, I can't rewritten your death. I can' t rewind time, to scold you for being so stubborn and to bring you to the hospital sooner before it was too late. I just can't. For the first time in my life, I face an unsolvable problem.
Yeah, I know your philosophy and I keep repeating it in front of everybody: If you can do something about it, why bother? And if you can't do anything about it, why bother too? People laugh when they hear this. This is a wise advice. I believe it 100% and I 100% fail in implementing it when it is related to you. Because I am bothered, I am damn bothered all the time by the fact that there is nothing I could do to change it.
That's why I pick Gojo Satoru's theme song, Where Our Blue Is, as the opening of this letter. I ran that song thousands of hours within the past two years, it is the song that perfectly encapsulates my never ending grief. It's a mix of hate, disappointment, longing for days gone by, and most importantly, hope. Hate, because I hate that you win this game of who will leave earlier and therefore is not burdened by the pain of being left alone. Disappointment of my own failure to prevent this tragedy from happening. Longing of rekindling our beautiful memories during the good old days. And hope, a hope that you are still here to see my progress. I'm doing fabulously, but I can do far, far, far better. After all, my life just began at 40. It is simply too soon for you to miss all of the adventures and grand stories that I wish I could tell you directly.
Remember your 4 pages letter to me? Sent in 2014, and personally delivered by Ira to me back in Chicago when I was doing my study for my PhD at the law school. That letter was the one that inspires me to write this imaginary letter. I was curious why you wrote me such a personal letter instead of just calling or skyping me to talk and say that you miss me (yes, there was an app called skype long time ago!). But now, as the self-appointed family treasurer and keeper of all family heirloom, I understand why you need to send me that letter. It serves as an important memento from yourself dedicated solely to me, a treasure that cannot be stolen, a piece of history that will be extremely worthy to myself and no one else.
You see, back during the pandemic, Yura Yunita released a song titled "Tenang" with a touching short video by Ringgo Agus Rahman and Nirina Zubir, telling the story of a middle-aged man who is trying to fix his old video record of his late father because he suddenly forgets his father's voice. That video inspired me to make a record of you and Dad because I too fear that one day, I will forget your voice and I will regret it forever. But the plan never materialized, I had some short records of you but there was no clear message directed to me. Only after your death that I learned from Dad that actually, there was a video that you made along with him and Aa Sodik which can be found here. I am so happy that you left me with some messages there. At least, I know that I can always remember your voice. And of course, I don't repeat mistakes, we now have a podcast video dedicated to you with me, Pras and Dad, securing a bit of our small family memory in this mortal plane.
One particular message in that video that resonates with me is your bold statement that you do not want your kids to take care of you because we owe you something but because we actually care, because of love. And I can't agree more. I don't remember you ever told me that when you are alive but I often say in so many forums that I only do what I love, my job, my hobby, my study, my craft. I dedicate my time and energy for those things because I love them. As declared by Scrooge McDuck, money is just an excess of a successful venture, but the one that is most valuable is the journey, the adventure, the memory.
I suppose your death triggered me to do something big, to go through a journey of self discovery (as advised by Pras). And believe me, I am actually cringing myself as I write "self discovery". You know how certain I am with my own life that I never really stop and ask: who am I and what am I going to do? I was so certain with my identity as a corporate lawyer and I aim to be the best ever lawyer in this galaxy (or hopefully this universe and 17 other dimensions). I love the fact that I actually enjoy my work and that I am blessed with the opportunity to experience a lot of fun activities, the best that the world can offer, all before I was 40. As such, I bet that you will put your hand on my forehead and ask: "are you sick?" or "who are you and where do you hide my son" if I ever say that I need to go through a journey of self discovery. It is simply too absurd, and yet, here we are. Kinda exciting while at the same time annoying because you gave me an extra homework to ponder with. Typical you.
And in that spirit of discovery, I suddenly throw myself into a whole new activity that forces me to explore the world outside my comfort zone beyond of any extra activities that I have done so far. In a normal scenario, I definitely will talk with you first before I make any decision. But, well, you're not here, and a part of me is so angry and sad at the same time with such condition. When I finished my PhD while building my office at the same time back in 2018, you were there reminding me everyday in the most annoying way that I must be successful at both regardless of the time and cost spent to do so. No one else can remind me like that anymore. No one will scold me like you if I ever show any degree of weakness or any slight gesture of giving up. No, no, no, I can even imagine your look of disappointment if I tell you that I am not so sure with my chances. The hardest challenge of doing this activity is not about its difficulty. I can always learn quickly, I know my competitive advantage, and I have the conviction that I can always beat the competition. The hardest challenge here is the fact that I have to do it all without you around, and it sucks.
There are so many reasons and aspirations that I can write in this page, but I realize, I don't need to convey them. There are things that I will only keep between ourselves. Heck, once I had a dream about you around 1.5 years ago that you suddenly came back to life. Dad was so happy in that dream. But I was super skeptical and kept asking various questions to test whether it was you or something else until finally I found out that it was just a demonic impostor because it cannot answer some very personal questions 😂😂😂. Even in my dream, my brain cannot accept that it is just a happy imagination and that I should just enjoy it instead of becoming a party pooper by asking unnecessary questions, haha. Typical me.
In any case, whatever the challenges that I will face later on, I feel that they are worth the time because at least they, along with Dad's post, help me to complete this letter! I finally can take a little step forward and hopefully find a better version of myself. If I didn't choose to go through with it, this draft letter would never see the ray of sun and I am thankful for that. Hopefully, there will be many more letters to come! Though I must say, I was hoping that the additional burden will allow me to at least forget you in the process, but I end up seeing you everywhere, especially through the many people that I meet, so I guess I can't escape from you after all 😤😤😤. Wish me luck, Mom, and see you around the stars.
Missing you forever,
Nanda
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3 comments:
Nanda
Sebetulnya kebencian yang benci itu dirasakan oleh ku, sampai detik ini perasaan itu kadangkala menghantui ,bahkan mencekik.
Hidup ini harus terus berjalan mengimbangibwaktu, apa yang Nanda lalukakan adalah sesuatu yang sangat amazing banget, jangankan aku, mama pun pasti tersenyum.
Tulisan ini pasti menginspirasi banyak orang, dan kalian sudah memberikannya, melalui podcast the Chamber PRAM DAN PRAS membuktikan bahwa cinta benar selalu diatas segalanya., ingat syair lagu... MENCINTAIMU AKU TENANG...KAU MAMPU MEMBUATKU TERSENYUM...JAGA LAH SELALUHATIMU.
Nanda apa yang kamu lakukan sekarang sesungguhnya itu harapan mama dan papa.
Terima kasih nak terus berbuat kebajikan di alam semesta
Mama papa selalu mencintai mu nak❤️
I completely agree, it’s truly inspiring. Even though I have never met Tante Erna, I realized that pure love for a loved one can truly be felt through this imaginary letter.
You mentioned that you can’t express your emotions well, but from what you wrote, I feel you did it beautifully. You know exactly what you were writing, and you genuinely felt it. and somehow, I felt it too.
I’m truly looking forward to the next letter in this series.semangat mas
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