A Mother's Grief and A Wife's Prayer

Yesterday, we just buried the body of a loved one. My cousin in law, Sahat Pramadana Sitorus, or we used to call him Bang Ato. His death was a shock to all of us when he heard the news yesterday morning. He just went to Surabaya – East Java to sing with the church choir he was a member of. He went to bed early because he felt cold but was found dead when his friends tried to wake him up for a late night snacks at midnight.

After my aunt called to inform the news, my cousin Refny – Bang Ato’s wife, called my mobile again. The first thing that she said was, “Bang Ato is no longer here.” I wanted to say something meaningful but all that’s came out of my mouth was, “Be strong. You have God on your side.” To which she replied to me, “Please come soon, I can be stronger when you’re all also here.”

And during these two days I have witnessed just how strong and faithful of a cousin that I had. Yes, she cried a lot, she lost a husband, someone that she vowed to be with for the rest of their lives, but it was cut short just a little bit after their 5^th anniversary. But she never left Jesus’ name from her mouth when she felt she couldn’t bear the grief anymore.

Bang Ato’s mother – we called her Inang, was even more devastated. Her husband died many years ago and as the oldest child Bang Ato had been taking care of her with love and patience. She said that he was a child who always listened to what his parents told him. She’s been sickly for a few years so she always thought that she was the one that would leave first instead of his beloved son.

There’s a quote that I remembered reading somewhere:

There’s a name for children who lost their parents.

There’s a name for a husband or a wife who lost their spouse.

But there’s no name for parents who lost their children because it’s too painful.

Children are supposed to live longer than their parents.

I was reminded of that quote when I saw her crying over his dead body. I was told that when Bang Ato’s body just arrived at the house, she fainted. And his two younger sisters were crying hysterically. My heart broke every time I saw her gently caressing Bang Ato’s face and holding his dead body. The body of someone that you gave birth to and nurtured for years, the one who was supposed to be by her side when her time to leave the world comes. I hope that her other children can overcome their grief and help Inang to overcome her sadness and loss.

Refny and Bang Ato got married 5 years ago, August 2006. I still remember it very clearly, they asked me to sing on their holy matrimony. So my cousin Sarah and I sang together at church. The song that they chose was titled “Semua Baik” or “All Is Good”. Here are part of the lyrics.

Dari semula t’lah Kau tetapkan

Hidupku dalam tanganMu, dalam rencanaMu Tuhan

From The Beginning You have decided

My life is in Your hand, in Your plan oh God

Rencana indah t’lah Kau siapkan

Bagi masa depanku yang penuh harapan

A beautiful plan You have prepared

For my future, full of hope

S’mua baik, s’mua baik

Apa yang t’lah Kau perbuat di dalam hidupku

All is good, all is good

What you have done in my life

S’mua baik, sungguh teramat baik

Kau jadikan hidupku berarti

All is good, all is very good

You have made my life meaningful

They were still trying to have a child when God called him back home. Though a lot of people pity her current situation right now, I believe that they have chosen that song in the beginning of their marriage because they believe that God knows better about their future. All is good.

They didn’t know each other for long before their wedding and she told me a lot of her struggle in the beginning of their marriage. Every single day, she prayed to God to give them wisdom to learn to love each other more and to surrender themselves in God’s capable hand. She prayed for him to grow into a husband who loves God more before his family and God had answered her prayers.

He wasn’t a man with many words but just before he left for his last trip he thanked her for being a wonderful wife, that he couldn’t think of what he might be become if he didn’t marry her. But most importantly, he told her that he loved God more than anything and promised to live according to His will each day. She only laughed at him at that moment, but I believe that it’s God’s way in telling her that her prayers had been answered. Holding on to God’s promise, she told me she knew that Bang Ato is already in God’s hand and she shouldn’t worry about her future.

Still, none of us could hold our tears from falling when her father put on the grieving veil on her. According to our tribe’s culture, it’s a mark of the changing of her status of being a widow. It pained me to hear the crying voices of our parents when they told her to be strong and let her know that we will support her as her family, that she could always turn to us whenever she feels weak. But maybe the words that really summed up what we wanted to convey to her came up from my other cousin and my uncle.

My cousin said:

You can cry to your heart’s content today, but remember that it will have to stop eventually for God doesn’t want you to grieve for a very long time.

My uncle said:

We put on this grieving veil on you to let you know that you’re always a part of us and you’ll be protected with us. You’re not alone and your family will always be here for you.

Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you. (John 16:22)

She will feel the sadness for awhile but I really hope that she can see the goodness that God had done for her from the starting of her marriage until her husband’s death. And as her family, we will support her in everyway that we can. I hope that she will feel less lonely with us by her side and that she keeps serving God with her talents.

But most of all, we want her to know that God loves her. And we love her.

And like the song that they have chosen 5 years ago. ALL IS GOOD.

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. (I Thessalonians 4:13)

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

Goodbye Bang Ato, you’ll always be remembered, we love you. Have fun in heaven!

The Sound of Music

Recognize any of the name above? No? That's fine... cause from 10 friends that I asked, only 1 person recognized Paul Mauriat, and that's because he's playing sax and happened to listened to one of Paul's recording long time ago. But that's the kind of musicians that I grew up listening to. If you wanna know about Herbie Mann, Jethro Tull, Vicky Leandros, click on the names. I have provided the link.

I have to admit that I'm a little late in terms of being up to date to music. I didn't know who Duran Duran is until I was in High School in early 90's. I heard about Bon Jovi when un-original cassettes were being swiped from stores. At that time I went shopping with my mom and so many people were looking for their albums. I was so happy cause the classical rack was still full so I asked my mom to buy me some James Galway's cassettes instead.

I have to thank my Dad for the unusual musical taste though. He's the one who kept playing them non-stop, in the car and at home. Many times I felt annoyed, not because I didn't enjoy it but more because I'm a little bit ashamed if my friend happened to hear it... it's like: "What's that you're listening to? How old are you?" But then again, I may not be able to appreciate a wide range of music if not because of that habit that my Dad implanted in my young mind.

Looking at my singing hobby and my eagerness to learn to play instruments (a little guitar & drum), people often asked me if my parents are playing music or singing too. The answer is no. Not at all. I couldn't even stand listening to my mom's singing, she's so out of tune! LOL So I don't really know where did I & my brother (who played almost all instruments) get that from :D

Anyway... if there's anything other than books that I can't leave without, then it's music. I bring music everywhere I go. I'm glad that I can appreciate music well and it's all thanks to my Dad. Though even the musicians that I mentioned above have become LEGENDS, I'm still happy that I got to listen to them back then, cause it made me appreciate the current music more.

I'm Getting Through It

Despite my tough appearance (according to many people, though I don't really think so), I'm actually such a cry baby. I can't watch a sad movie without crying like an heartbroken idiot -- thinking: 'what if it happens to me' or 'I wish it never happens to me'. I even cried while driving past an old man sitting by the pavement and looking so lonely -- thinking: 'does he have a family to take care of him' or 'I should talk to my father tonight so he won't get lonely'.

I cried a lot but I ever since Mom passed away I cried even more often and little things tugged at my heartstrings more easily. If I used to cry on my bed in the past, lately I cried more often in the car, while driving to or from work or just whenever I felt like it. So to prevent having such a moody feeling I tried to play cheerful and upbeat music. Still, there are times when everything was just not right... sentimental songs were playing through the radio... and unstoppable tears were just falling like rain.

Many times I asked myself whether I'm still not over the grieve from my Mom's death. But this person said in one of his twit: "YOU NEVER GET OVER GRIEF, YOU GET THROUGH IT." I'm relieved, cause I know that I'm not dwelling on the grief, I get on with my life, and it's okay for me to cry when I feel like it but never let the sad feelings bring me down... I'M GETTING THROUGH IT, and I'm living in remembrance of my Mom and the good and bad things that we went through.

Yeah... I'm sure there's a point in our life when we just feel everything is wrong... things are dragging us down.... but LIFE GOES ON... we shouldn't dwell on the past but to move on. And when you're unable to get over it, then get through it!

And here I'm sharing a picture taken at my cousin's wedding last May with Dad & Lil' Bro'. It's not easy to get a family photo like this, didn't even have one with Mom. So I treasure this and hope to take more while he's still with us.

Writing, A New Start

I'm not the type of person who created "New Year's Resolution" every year. As cliche as it may sound, I just prayed that I become a better person each and every year. Why? Because I knew I wasn't good enough, I had never been perfect and I didn't try hard enough to be a better me.

Last year I added something else though. I wanted to write again. I prayed to God to let me write again. And it happened. And once I started... I couldn't stop. Ideas were flowing, inputs were received from so many people... I felt alive again. I felt like I'm back to being myself from many years ago.

Writing used to be my way to express myself and my feelings as far as I could remember. I used to be able to write whatever came up in my head... pondered over it, took a pen and a book, and started writing until it's gone from my head. Back in High School I won several poetry competitions for my school... If memory served, the best that I won was a silver medal for a province level competition. The theme was "Delinquency."

First, I didn't like the theme. Second, I had no idea what to say about delinquency. And to put it into a poem? Gaaahh! So I procrastinated... Other than myself there were another 2 people who represented my school. The other 2 submitted their writings to the school a week before the deadline, typed and printed into 3 copies as inquired. I submitted mine only 2 hours prior to the time the teacher should go to submit the materials to the committee. Hand written in 10 minutes, copied with carbon paper with smudges of black carbon all over the 2 copies. I grinned as I handed them out to the teacher and left home in a rush... so I could have enough time to shower and leave again to watch the school's theater's club's performance somewhere. Competition forgotten.

As soon as I arrived at the theater hall, my friend ran to me and congratulated me. I just asked dumbly, "What happened?" She told me excitedly, "You won!" I asked again idiotically, "What did I win?" She looked at me with impatience and told me about the competition result. One second later... "I won?" Two seconds... "I WON??" Three seconds, "I WON!! Really?? You're not lying to me, are you??" And we were jumping up and down in celebration, I was still in disbelief that I wrote something good enough to win it. Unfortunately, I didn't keep a copy of the poem since I wrote it instantaneously in front of the teachers' room :) But at least I had a happy memory of it when I opened my mom's drawer and found the appreciation letter and the announcement of my winning among the things that she treasured of her children. I thought: "Did I make you proud, Mom? Were you happy for me too?"

Back to what I actually wanted to convey in this post... I'm very happy to find a media in which I can express my self again in writing. Though I don't think I can let everyone know the media in which I started to pour out my passion once again, the response that I received in each post was overwhelming... Knowing that people from another countries actually got emotional over every chapter, it was such a privilege for me and inspired me to write more and better in every update. Eventually, once I started I could hardly stop. Just when I finished one, another idea came up...

But if you think that I wrote just because I wanted to... you're not completely wrong but it's also not correct. This time, I wrote with a mission. I read about so many heartaches and pains in this online community I frequent. When I prayed to God to let me write again, I asked HIM to give me ideas and let me know what I should write. After awhile, the comments and private messages that flowed my inbox were astounding. Many people shared their painful past and what they felt after reading what I wrote. As they poured out their hearts to me, I also opened up to them about my own experiences. Once again I found my happiness in being able to help others in a way that I could. To God Be The Glory!

About a month ago I was browsing through my mom's old files. Among them were a few books of her daily journal, up to the times when she just got sick. I was glad that I was alone at home, so I could cry my heart out reading some of her posts, finding out her heart and mind in there. Then I came across a book that I never saw before. It looked a bit older then the rest of the journals. Tell me how surprises I was to see that my mom was actually a writer herself! Half of the book was handwritten with her view of life, of family, of marriage... like those articles that I could find a magazine. Each word was meaningful and a picture of the past that shaped her. It was a great discovery for me! Writing was her legacy to me.

As I laid down on my bed at night after the discovery... I thought of how fortunate I have been. To be given another chance to continue doing what I should do... To start expressing myself again through the talent that God had blessed me with. But more than those, to be able to re-discover my inner self in a new point of view. Nothing's ever too late. You can always start anew. I have re-started one... and I will re-start more.

There were other things that I used to do in the past... creating things... And I know I can always start doing it again. All I have to do it just opening the drawers and take out the materials that somehow I still keep intact. Time is running... I don't want to waste another moment in vanity.

Unshakable Faith, Unconditional Love

On the last day of 2010, I heard a news that one of the greatest man I've ever known has passed away. He's no celebrity nor someone with special ability. He's just an old man whose love of God still amazed me even today. No one who read this entry would know of him except for those who also attend my local church; and that's only if you've been part of the congregation at least since 5 years ago. And that man's name is PAK WITO. Pak Wito is a face that I could remember ever since I have recollection of my attending church back in Sunday School. At that time, I remembered him as an old man who lived in church and cleaned up and practically took care of the day to day operational. Years went by, I started to get involved in Teen Ministry. And I remembered him as someone who kept yelling at us when he thought that we were too noisy. His sour face was an eyesore to us teenagers who would shut our mouth when he passed by and complained behind his back. We didn't know that for him, our noise would disrupt people who wanted to pray. 

I grew up and entered the Youth Ministry. Young and full of passion in serving the Lord, we created an event from time to time. Many times, leaving the church dirty after an event with the excuse of being tired; we said that Pak Wito was just too fussy for scolding us. Until one day I came early the day after an event and saw him cleaning our big church by himself! He didn't even ask for help, he just worked silently and diligently, making sure that each centimeter of the floor was shiny. We didn't know that for him it's not just a church. It's the place where God dwells. It's HIS house. And it's our responsibility to keep it clean. 

As I got older, he got weaker. He always had a frail and thin body, but it didn't stop him from attending all 3 services on Sunday and cleaning up in between. He knew each of the congregation member, he saw most of us growing up from babies to young people. He's proud when one of us became a father or a mother. And it must've hurt him too when some people left for silly reasons. Our pastor made him returned to his village when he got TBC. He had been asked to retire but he always refused. Saying that serving the Lord was his only reason to live. But one day... he really left. After that he returned a couple of times when our church was in trouble and in need of people to take care of. He was much weaker and starting to lose his sight, but he told me that he couldn't stop thinking about the church. No matter how weak he was, he felt home when he's there. 

Pak Wito had an unshakable faith. Even in his sickness he still believed that he worshiped a living God. That God had a plan for him and each of us. Whoever stayed the night in church would know this fact: every single day Pak Wito would wake everyone up at 5am to pray at the 2nd Floor. And even if he had to do it alone, he would. He didn't care if we're sleeping on the other side of the room, but once the clock strike 5, we would hear him pray by himself. Once he finished he wouldn't return to bed, instead he would start cleaning. Pak Wito had an unconditional love for God. GOD would always comes first. No matter how tired he was, he wouldn't miss a single service on Sunday. And we had three -- 7am, 9.30am, and 6pm. I once asked him to rest when I saw that he's too exhausted in between service. He said that God would make him strong, he had no reason to miss a service just because he felt a little weak. It was his love of God that gave him strength to serve through our church for a couple of decades. 

I heard that he died one day after Christmas, 26 December 2010. I knew that God love him so much, HE gave him a chance to celebrate HIS birth before HE called him home to be with HIM. One thing that I regret was that I never "really knew" him that well, despite knowing him for more that 2/3 part of my life. I didn't know at what age did he die or the exact way God had called him. And one thing that I learned from him, that he had no regrets in his life. He had lived it to the fullest for God and God only. He never cared of what people would think of him, he only cared of how to give his best to his Lord. And I hope that that's the kind of life that I could also live. Pak Wito will always be missed and I hope that we also long to be faithful and honest in our ministry like he did. 

But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

PHILLIPIANS 3 :7-14, NKJV