For you, Gi.

It was only after graduation that we noticed we had things in common. You and I never had 'real' classes together, neither did we 'hang out' whenever we had free periods together in that cramp little school of ours. At first I felt you were someone much different and that our two worlds would hardly collide. And surely it didn't. Not during highschool, anyway. But it got more like tanggled together after ^^;

Then graduation drew nearer and became the hot topic of our year. Our dress, our hairstyle, our make up, shoes... we wanted everything close to perfection. We've waited for this moment so long, after suffering all the things any EaB Victor Hugo students can imagine (you can't even start imagining...) At first we thought we would go altogether to get our hair & make-up done, but you decided to abandon me and Kel at the last moment. Hix.. hehe, kidding gal ;)

We sat at one table during that memorable grad dinner. You and your parents, Kel and hers, and little Mia fitting into your table :p After that night, things went from good to fabulous ;) I enjoyed every time we met, whether it be a simple day's out or crashing into your place and analyse the development of your culinary skill. Huehe..

Well, thanks for everything, Gi. You've taught me so much. And now your 'real' life will start. I wish you all the best. Don't forget to continue making people's day with your smile. Don't forget Paris and everything this city has given you. I'm going to miss you. Take great care, buddy. Until your wedding day ;)

Umak

Innaa lillaahi wa inna illaihi rooji'uun

Umak, which literally means "mother" in my dialect, is my grandma. Yesterday at about 5.30am (GMT+7) she let out her last breath at Pertamina's Hospital ICU (Intensive Care Unit), Jakarta, Indonesia. Age, 89. Her lost, to me, was unexpected.

That was just past midnight Paris time. I was sleeping soundly, not a worry. Yeah, I was even having fun when they burried her. I was... sitting at haagen dazs when I got lost in my friends' conversation until one of them waved in front of my face.

I received news that she was in the hospital on Wednesday. I admit the thought crossed my mind, but I didn't expect it to happen before I can kiss her two cheeks like I used to. And to think that was only due in weeks. In just weeks...

If I am to comment on the way she lived her life, it is one I shall like to live. As far as I know, she hasn't any regrets. She lived a peaceful life throughout. Watching her sons grow up, Allah giving her grandchildren and even 3 angels as great grandchildren. She never worked for wealth. Wealth worked for her.

I've always been proud to see her stand up and follow every tarawih prayers with her weak knees during Ramadhan. I used to stand beside her, because mom would worry that anyone else can accidentally squash her foot on the last raka'at. Years ago, she would always have hot chocolate ready for me after I splash in her pool. She would ask her driver to pick me up from school, when it was just minutes away walking.

Every Saturday night, she would make sure that each grandchild's favourite food was ready on the table. Each dessert. Each of our photo is displayed in her home. She had a warm heart. She really did.

I used to write her letters when I was in Canberra. And she would always write back. Those long and curved handwriting of hers. She would send me cards on my birthday. As I got older and her getting weaker, whenever my birthday was approaching, she would ask my mom to buy for me a present from her part...
Last I met her, she still loved fresh bread from bakeries, but she would no longer join in to our conversations. Nevertheless she always smiled. Looking at each of us with her soft brown eyes.

I'm her last grandchild. I wasn't her favourite, but I never saw it any other way. Je t'aime, Umak. Je t'aime de tout mon coeur. I'm sorry I didn't get to see you. I love you.