Grandmamories

Hey Grandma, how are you there? It has been sooo long, 11 years, isn’t it? You know what? I do really miss you.

Last week,  I saw Letters to God with my friends. I cried at many parts of the movie (its story is about a boy who suffers brain cancer). Yes, it was really sad, but actually, most of my tears fell down because the movie reminded me of you. I remembered that day, when God sent a really heavy rain (or was it a thunderstorm?) as your breath was fading away. It was scary; the sky was dark grey, wind blew hard, thunders and storms were everywhere, the adults were panic and crying. Then, you’re gone.

You don’t know how much I miss you. I miss talking to you, discussing my homework, being lulled as I fell asleep, joking around with you, and anything that involved us.

Do you remember when I had an art homework? My drawing was soooo bad at that time, so I begged you to draw for me. Then you finished it by yourself. You even colored it. Then I got 90 for it. It was beautiful, I should have kept it. Thank you very much 🙂

I still remember, every morning, before my sister and I went to school, we always had porridge+soy sauce+’tahu’ for breakfast. Then on Sunday morning, we bought ‘surabi’ in front of Ramayana, and we went there by ‘becak’. Sometimes we went to ‘alun-alun’ and played there. Oh, we also went to Villa Istana Bunga in Lembang, we bought ‘ketan bakar’, met some cute rabbits, swam. We once went to Puncak and visited Masjid Maisy. I don’t know what its real name, but we call it that way because a singer, Maisy, made her video clip there, hahaha. The mosque was beautiful (I haven’t gone there for years), and we stayed there for a while to take a rest and we took photos. How fun my life was.

That was before the cancer took it all. Your right eye was taken out from your eye socket. The chemotherapy made you bald. You turned thin, very thin. I was mad. I was mad at that mean cancer. How dare it took all from you.

I remember, on my birthday, when the mean cancer hadn’t come yet, you took me to a mall to buy a present. You said, I can choose it. But I was confused in choosing between a small pink book and…something, I forget. Then you said that you prefer the book, so I chose that small pink book. Since then, you taught me how to write and to share stories on it. Almost everyday I wrote. I wrote every single thing that happened on that day; I talked to my Dad (who was studying abroad) by chatting on internet and he promised that he would take me to a park, I had finished learning Arabic letters, what I had for breakfast, everything. I also drew on it. Well, I think you’ve made my passion in writing. I prefer sharing my stories by writing than speaking. Writing is fun. When I write, every thoughts flow, turn into words and phrases and sentences and paragraphs. I can show my feelings, my thoughts, and share stories. I keep writing, until today I still write, and I write this post.

Grandma, I write this post for you. I wish you were here and read this post and so you know how much I love you. I do love you, even I have never told it to you. Trust me, I do really really really love you, and I mean it. No matter what, I do, and will always love you.

MUCH LOVE AND BIG HUG {}

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