Little Things

I decided to take the challenge on The Daily Post at WordPress.com: Just Do It! I’ll keep on posting things for the next 1 week, starting from today. :D

For me, holiday means more time with family. I don’t know about you, but it’s quite hard for my family to be complete, all 4 of us. No, mom and dad are completely available, but their children aren’t. I almost always spend my entire days and nights at campus, struggling with lab and class and organizational activities. My brother is always busy at the hospital and comes home with weary eyes.

Sometimes you’re too busy growing up, but you forget that your parents are also growing old.

I cherish this quote in this holiday. No I don’t forget them. I love all these little things I do with my family. How my mother wakes me and my twin up ‘violently’ when it’s time for Subuh prayer and how my twin brother rubs his eyes like a big bear when she does so. How I groan and push myself further under the blanket by constantly saying, “5 more minutes and I’ll wash my face, I swear!”. How my father lies there in bed enduring his life-long sickness that never scratches any inch of his will to live. How the 4 of us snuggle under the same blanket in our home’s master bedroom, talk about random things and zits about everyone’s life. Listening to mom’s funny comments about trashy celebrities. Her comments are priceless and I don’t even know where she got those extraterrestrial words. I love the way we scroll through TV shows from Mamah Dedeh to Insert. It just feels different. I always lie beside dad and my twin lies beside mom. Whoever we may be in the future, we’ll always be each other’s parts.

If the sun has risen high enough, the twins will get out of the bed and start yelling to have breakfast. Mom and her franticness will push the idea of her ideal breakfast, and somehow we’ll agree (cause we have no choice). She’s got the gift of cooking. She’s got the gift of everything. All 4 of us will then eat at the same table, or just sit cross-legged on our backyard sofas, laughing. Brother will throw out some jokes and we’ll all chuckle. Dad will have cough and we’ll be worried that he may have heart attack or another strike of stroke. But he’ll come back with his usual grin and too-much-food look in his face, and mom’ll hurl some tablets. We’ll then continue to our conversations about this and that, this and that. From bro’s experience of witnessing death-near-life experience, my lab experiments, Norsk mythology, bro’s last year memory of Tokyo, mom’s wish to go to Saudi again, dad’s 1980s version of USA, me and dad’s identical pose in front of Lincoln Memorial statue and my dream to be there in one frame with him, my latest crush, bro’s latest crush, future careers, future plans, whether or not we Muslims are allowed to say Merry Christmas, latest gossips in our neighbourhood….anything, everything. We can talk about nothing and we’re still gonna be happy.

When the morning light fades, the twins will be busy in front of their laptops. Or, in holidays, we may arrange some plans to go out, like yesterday. But all 4 of us secretly agree that we’d rather stay at home than be in that waves of people, so most likely we’ll never leave. If it rains, occasionally I’ll make dad and myself hot tea, and I’ll sit on his lap, just a reminder that I’m still his little princess, no matter what. No matter how old I am, I’ll always be the girl who loves it when her hair is brushed gently by her father’s familiar hand. I’ll always be the cheery girl of the house who screams crazily when exams are coming over. Or maybe I’ll just come to brother’s room and hug his big stomach. Or annoy him by my constant rant. He’ll give me some comforting words or we’re gonna wrestle with each other like cats and dogs. Mom will come to my aid. I’ll be saved from bone-crack.

I smile as I write this piece. Those scenes, they are just some of many many things I’ll miss for sure. What we do now, today, this time, it will all be memory, won’t it? And memories bind. Somewhen in the future, I’ll read this back and these words will come annihilating to me, but I don’t care. I’ll make my family last. I love these little things. I pray that Allah loves them too. And please, please Allah, don’t ever take them away from me.

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Author: mfaradina

An Indonesian. A reliable realist outside yet a romantic dreamer at heart.

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