Yesterday became one of the most memorable days in this year.
It started when it was at subuh the doctor received news that his grandma was not in a good condition. After several years, it was likely that she was on her final moments.
It was Saturday yet the tense was in the air. The struggle to choose between coming home to meet his grandma (most likely) for the last time and a morning shift to do. After long debate, he chose the more important one.
While continous talking, chatting and video calling took place between his families about arranging this sudden homecoming, I blurted out an idea that I wanted to join in.
Far before yesterday, we had an intention to visit Yangti after we went back from London. Watching that morning hassles, assesing the situation, I felt like there would be no more other day than this time.
There is one funny thing that always happen to me. My period has always never been on time. Each month, it comes in different dates.
But, one thing for sure : it always comes on the right time. Just like yesterday. According to schedule, the period should be here around another week-10 days, but suddenly on Friday night, there it came. Then, on a Satuday morning we had this situation. When I told the doctor I wanted to join him, although it would be tired, risky and only less than for 24 hours trip, I felt like I was given more green light to join because of this period coming.
So, within an hour, we packed our bags, took care everything, and headed to his mother’s house where we met his brothers to go for a road trip to their grandma’s house.
We departed around 9 am and shortly, not even before we entered the highway, a telephone call came.
Yangti had gone.
The journey to Solo took around 6 hours and we arrived just very on time. People were crammed around her house. Right before Yangti coffin was ready to be closed, my mother in law and the grandsons were running quickly to bid their last kiss to their beloved mother and grandma.
I was not that close to her. But I really have a sincere respect for her. During the first years, there were times when I felt I didn’t fit, in front of her eyes. More, for the oldest grandson in the family. I am not that eloquent. Far from chatty, not friendly, not good at small talk, don’t understand a single word of Javanese. I am not even a javanese. The only one without a single drop of javanese blood. The only non-javanese in the doctor big families so far.
Only for the last two Lebaran I developed more other feeling than respect. I remembered we were riding on the same car for 2018 Lebaran and it was the most intense situations I had been with her. I remembered helping her fixing the seat belt, talking more than any lebarans before, and there was one time when I could feel that I was (finally) seen too by her.
For me, her best legacy not her well-known reputation and fame as one of the best make up artists for javanese wedding in the island or country, ( the current RI 1 family went with her for their daughter wedding), nor as a respectful javanese lady whose late husband was one who fought for this country’s independence.
Last Saturday was about bidding farewell to one whose through her presence, life granted me with one pray that I asked whole-heartedly many years ago : for me to have a kind mother in law, if I got married one day. That is her legacy for me.
Last Saturday, it was precious to witness everyone’s part to bid the farewell. The little brother did his best on the last leg of the trip behind the steering wheel so we arrived right on time to give the last kiss. Listened to the middle one recited the adzan. The oldest one lent his shoulder to carry his grandma for the last time. Even the little great grand daughter did her part by kept raising her hand and recited small part of Yasin that she coud memorize.
Last Saturday, we sent our beloved Yangti in a warm afternoon to the one and only resting place we all will return, under the beautiful sky of langit senja.
Rest well, Yangti.