Someone broke onto the house and stole mom's mobile.
- Mom visited her older sister's at a hospital in Medan for two nites. She is at the early stage of Stroke.
- Nenny, my second older sister, is still on medication for her feet.
- A few (more) deaths updates.
It must be very devastating for her, having such a close and strong bond with her older sister, mom said on the phone that she feels like betraying her for having to leave her at the hospital for taking care things back home in Sibolga.
"She's literally not herself," mom explains on the phone two nights ago, "Once she was not aware she is at a hospital and blurted out sentences in a sad way. I cannot make out the words she tried to say. She gets easily angry."
"What should I say to your grandma, oh.." she trailed off then senses my worry, "hope she will get thru this, Jerry. The doc said she doesnt get any internal bleeding on her temple."
For the next two nights after that phone call, I couldn't get myself to sleep well. The idea of more death in the family is kind of unbearable.
Renata called me last nite, this time she didn't get anything much to deliver, "I got bored with the TV and just talked with mom. She was not talkative. They're on the bus and will be home by tomorrow morning."
She was not that talkative that evening either. She went silence sometimes while I gave him a please-hold-on-this-ain't-take-that-long smile. I was sitting on a lobby of a German-Jewish friend last nite, the cottage looked nice in the evening and it was our first meeting since our previous messages on the phone.
"Mom will be Okay, hopefully," I said on the phone in Bahasa with a thick Sibolgan accent, "maybe she just doesnt want to talk much about anything at the moment. Give her sometime."
It was thirty seven minutes past ten and our conversation with Jeff about Yoga and stuffs got interrupted with helpless yawns from each of us. S, my housemate who drove me there, paid a full attention with a puzzled look on his face tried to make out what we were talking about. The small group of White ladies got up from their wooden chairs and said nitey nite to each other and threw us kind smiles.
"She's from the mainland (USA) while the other three are Australians," he voluntarily explained, "how's your day?" he asked to the tall Blondie woman in white attire.
He's pretty well-acquainted with some, er, most of other guests. He invited me over to see his rehearsal with his Yoga partner/student of whom he sent out from Hawaii to perform Yoga+Acrobatic dance for the upcoming Bali Spirit Festival.
"I guess I should let you take some rest before your rehearsal tomorrow morning," I said and smiled at him. It is going to be a long day for him and I might bump into him on the last two days of the festival when we'd do some coverage. He was kind enough to offer me a free pass.
It has been a slow yet long week at work. The washing machine was broken and is still at the repair shop for almost a week now so last nite before I throw myself to the bed, I promised would handwash the piled-up undies.
I also told myself that when all sucks and things taste funny in my tongue, it's about the damn right time to recount what small things I should smile about. Sitting tight on the backseat of the scooter on the way to work this morning, I had a hard time to be really in the moment and take in all the beauty of a sunny fresh morning air along the way through the villages. Nevertheless, I tried to smile, once.
And keep on wearing that tiny little line of forced warmth smile until I finally able to feel it.