1 Month

God is good. God is really really good. God is great.

My mom's passing 9 years ago was traumatic for me. For several years, I couldn't close my eyes and remember her happy healthy self. I was with her through her battle with cervix cancer for 2 years, I watched how it took away everything good from her, and yet when the time came for her... I wasn't there beside her. I was only 10 minutes away from the hospital. But you know what? She left while being sung with worship by her church friends. She left peacefully though I didn't see it. I still believe that God was holding her hand.

She left me a message though my cousins and aunts, something that I thought I wouldn't be able to do: to take care of my little brother and Dad, cause she believed I was the only one who could do that for her. I made a promise to her in front of her coffin that I would try to do my best.

Exactly one month ago, my Dad also left us all to return to our Heavenly Father. Yes, I cried a lot of tears but I also laughed just as much. God gifted me a great present, the thing that I remember most about the morning I saw him last being alive was his smile as I said goodbye to leave for work. A few hours latter the phone call came, my hand shook, my head said impossible - he was okay this morning.

One month back... I was given a chance to create more happy memories with him. I took him to the doctor and hospital, something that I hadn't been able to do. He was always scheduled on weekdays, but that one time somehow I was spared a weekend. And an extra Monday night to pick him up after an MRI then to have dinner with him and my sister in law.

I was actually had a tiring week, but something told me that I just had to go that Saturday. Then most of the time I just felt like buying food that he liked, but somehow he lost his appetite. 3 days before he went, I brought some cookies that I bought from a friend. He loved them!! He said he couldn't stop eating those, tasted so good... I was happy and we chatted in the living room for a bit. He made a joke on the brand, I was lying on my stomach in the sofa bed just listening to him.

I was struggling with something for months, I kept praying to God to give me answer. Even after my dad was settled into a coffin in the funeral home, it still felt like a dream to me. When I walked away for a moment I prayed to God: "This wasn't the answer that I expected from you, Lord. Why did you do this to me." And God never waited for long to give an answer. My cousin who worked out of town happened to be in Jakarta. When he held me in his arms he said: "Your job's done. Well done." I felt like being slapped so hard on my face, yet I still didn't understand fully what that meant.

On the second night, my brother and sister in law asked to talk to me in my bedroom. They told me that dad was concerned about me, he talked to them about how lonely I would be when he's gone, what would I do by myself... Then my brother told me: "Remember when mom died you promised her to take good care of me and dad? Well, you've done it! It's over now, it's time for us (he and his wife) to take care of you! I promised dad that you won't be alone, you have us. And it's my turn to be there for you."

I was speechless. Not about what he said. But the revelation of God's plan in our life. I could hear HIM clearly: It's not about answering your prayer. It's about MY time. And it's MY time for your dad to be with ME. Your job's done, now it's MY turn and YOUR time to live your life for yourself.

God is good. God is really really good. God is great.

And the past month I've been grateful, of how much fun Dad had shared with us. Looking at his pictures, even though I'm sad, I can also smile remembering the past 9 years I spent with him. My sister in law told me that when I took him to the cardiologist last month he was very happy. I was just waiting (and trying to sleep) at the reception room, but he told the nurses inside: "Look, my daughter has driven me here! She can't do it usually cause she has to work, but today she comes with me! That's her sitting there!" I can't ask for something better that those words.

It's only been a month... but I know I'm going to be alright. I spent more time with my brother and sister in law... laughing together, reminiscing about him together. Even though there's also a lot of things to get used to without him, I'm learning to live for myself.

In the end, God is good. God is really really good. God is great for me.

Starting Over

Many people kind of raised their eyebrows in knowing my latest interest in baking and cooking. I couldn't blame them. I guess only people who are really close to me and know me for a long time could understand this new obsession.

I'm okay with question such as "Hey, what starts this obsession?" or "Why, just realize that you're a woman now?" but the question that I dislike the most is "Preparing yourself to get married?". Heck, what's getting married and cooking / baking got to do with each other? I have a friend who can't cook sh*t but her husband is one of the best cook I've ever known! Do they have a problem? No. Does the husband complain? No. So why should people complains on behalf of unable-to-cook-wives of the world? SMH.

And just FYI, my Mom couldn't cook when she married my Father but she learned. Still, my Dad used to make the best fish-balls I've ever tasted! No msg, no flour, just with his bare-hands. Darn, I wish he can still do that, but alas, it needs power to make fish-balls, believe me, I saw him made them when I was little LOL And sometimes he still cooks for himself even now.

People are also surprised when they find out that I like crafting. Nah... not that kind of crafting that I can make money of but I do like working with my hands, thread and needles. I used to make my own Christmas cards for friends, sew my own pouch (by hand, since we never had a sewing machine at home), make my own picture diary with stickers and such. But they're so time consuming that I just can't do it anymore.

Back to cooking and baking. There is a good reason why I never show a lot of interest on it before. My Mom. She's a good baker to be honest and through the years she became a good cook for us. I was always curious and wanted to learn from her, but I never got the chance too. She said I was a nuisance in the kitchen. She said she hated me hovering over her while she was cooking and baking. The simple snacks I could make from flour and cassava, I learned from my maid who was patient enough to buy the ingredients and taught me when my mom wasn't home. And whatever I made, my mom never wanted to taste even once. So I made it, I ate it.

As I grew up, I never had the confidence to put my hands on recipes or even going near the stove except for boiling water or cooking instant noodles. I felt like whatever I made was going to be a disaster compared to my Mom's. Same as my way of dressing. Until the day my Mom died, I could never dress up myself with my own style nor could I walk out of the house without her approving of my clothing. What she bought or thought look nice, I had to wear, no questions asked. Only after she passed away I gradually changed my whole wardrobe and started dressing according to my own style and liking. At the age of 32.

After she died and no one to cook at home, I started buying recipe books, cooking pasta for my friends who were visiting, even looked into the fridge and mixed stuff that's left in it. Sometimes they're bad (but I still finished them anyway LOL), sometimes they're okay (my Dad didn't mind to eat them) and sometimes they're good (that my friends requested me to cook for them again). But I finally learned that "Hey, I can do this! I'm not that bad!" The more I tried, the more I realized that "Yes, cooking is great, especially when people can actually eat what I cook!" I don't have an oven at home, so I haven't started with baking, but I will very soon, once I got enough money to buy a nice oven :)

I'm starting over.

A month ago, I tried my hands on some no-bake-cake recipes. The Nuttela-cheesecake was okay but the Marshmallow-oreo was a disaster LOL But that didn't stop me from trying. Last Saturday I tried to make my very first mini donuts and my Aunt happened to visit while I was frying them. She said it tasted wonderful! Maybe she was trying to make me feel good hahaha but I didn't mind. She ate 5 of them (or maybe more?) and said the most wonderful thing I've always wished I could hear from my mom: "Would you like me to teach you Grandma's pudding recipe?" It's one of my mom's specialty inherited from my Grandma. I never tasted any good chocolate pudding as the one I always ate when my Mom and Grandma were alive. I'm excited.

I'm starting over.

I'm going to take baking course. I'm going to schedule a pudding-making lesson from my Aunt. I'm going to try more recipes. And I'm going to dye my hair Plum again.

I'm starting over. And it's never too late to start over.

I don't feel bitter anymore about my mom's attitude toward my kitchen interest. If she let me learned from her, maybe I won't be this excited again. Maybe I won't have the drive to try something new. Maybe I won't discover new joys in life in such simple actions as learning to make pudding. But mothers, please let your daughters or sons learn from you. It might be a disaster in the kitchen, you might feel annoyed. But believe me, it will be something that your children treasures when they grow up. Teach them with patience, show them what you can do. And one day they can proudly say: "Hey, my Mom taught me this! How cool is that?"

Lastly, I've posted this in Facebook, but again, please ignore the strangely shaped donuts. Apparently it wasn't easy to create a round-and-full donuts with just two spoons even though you've watched the tutorial in youtube a hundred times!

dreaming

I once complained to my dear little cousin that I never once dreamed of my mother, no matter how much I missed her. Other people dreamed of her. My father dreamed of her. My brother dreamed of her. But not me. I wasn't with her on her last moment, so I wished at least I could talked to her in my dreamland... even if it's not real, I wanted to touch her "living self".

And I finally did last night. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I couldn't comprehend what just happened. I tried hard to remember my dream. Then suddenly it's rushing back to me... I felt her touch, I saw her smile... I was holding her hand as we travel together somewhere by bus (bus??? why not plane??? LOL), as the bus stopped in the middle of the journey I said to her: "Mom, could you just stay on the bus and not wandering around? We're almost there, probably about 4-5 hours more." She said ok and smiled to me. And the dream ended.

I don't want to start guessing what the dream meant. But I couldn't stop my tears from falling hard when it finally dawned on me that I just dreamed of her... finally! But the most important thing was that God has granted my wish. And I know that she's in peace with HIM up above. As my life will go on for God knows how much longer... in the end we'll be together when the time comes. But I will remember the smile that she gave in that dream... it told me that she loves me. As much as I love her. Though I wish I could say it to her eye to eye. I love you Mom.

presence

It's day 7 of being home alone. And another 6 days to go. And somehow it doesn't feel so good.

Not that I'm not used being alone, in fact I am so used to it. But ever since my mom passed away, I've always had my father around, well there's only the 2 of us at home anyway. He traveled a few times, but never more than 5 days, 6 day tops. This is like the longest time he left me by myself. Heck, I'm an adult, there shouldn't be an issue being home all alone! I think most people will be happy, another reason to come home late :D

But lately I feel that a presence of another person feels so much better. I don't talk much with my dad, when I got home we usually just said hi and if there's something to tell each other, then we tell. Once or twice we had dinner together at home (when I can leave the office early & no traffic jam on the way home), I bought him food that he likes. But even when we don't interact much, I know he's there. I feel his presence.

The sound of tv in the living room makes me feel his presence.
The sound of his steps passing my bedroom makes me feel his presence.
The sound of the door keys in the morning makes me feel his presence.
Now even when he's not home, I can feel his presence.
And I start to appreciate it. That's the difference between the dead and the living.

I still have some of the things that she left behind. And her pictures are all around the house. But I don't feel her presence anymore. I could still memorize her laugh, I could still remember the smell of her perfume. I could still picture her frown when she disagree with me. But she's no longer there.

So for how long can I still feel my dad's presence, only God knows. I just want to cherish every moment while I'm still with him right now. But even when he's gone, I hope I can find another presence to feel when I'm home. And keep me away from my loneliness.