Letter Bench

You won't know how great a woman is until you experience something like the family story in this short story. Until you get involved in a melancholy life drama like what I will tell you this time.

I know, you will surely deny. "Short stories are just fiction," as your old literature teacher said. But this time, I hope you will believe that there are times when a short story is deliberately written honestly by a lonely man who believes facts must be written in order to be read. And to be interesting to read, the facts must occasionally be put in the form of a short story. As you are currently reading.

Previously I told you, there is nothing interesting in this family life in this story. A large lonely family. Fathers are the quietest, cold, and sometimes emotional. The mother, the only woman in this family, is doing very well as a woman who is also a mother: talkative, controlling, painstaking, caring, and finally Fikar's mother is a very patient-minded person. The five brothers, like most men, tend to be messy and careless. Dion, the little brother, inherited the nature of his mother a little: he was the most diligent in helping her and the most patient with the behavior of his brothers.

Fikar? In the drama of his family life, Fikar only takes on an additional, less important supporting role. Fikar prefers to be an observer. Silence while observing his family life which is often lonely, cold and the last three years is very dramatic. Melancholy. This story begins three years ago.

Fikar cellphone has been vibrating since morning. Dion's number was listed on the screen. At first, Fikar didn't care because it was his brother's habit to call his brothers, fulfilling Fikar mother's curiosity about Fikar news and Fikar five brothers, who each had found their overseas land. Seeing the HP that didn't stop shaking, Fikar raised it. A few seconds later, silence. "Hello... Hello .. Mas Fikar .. Mas Fikar .. Do you hear Dion?"

Immediately Fikar pressed the red button on the cellphone. Click, the phone is disconnected without Dion even bothered to keep talking. Cold sweat spread from the forehead, the air felt stuffy even though the fan of the boarding house had been spinning. Immediately Fikar grabbed the bag and rushed to find the fastest way to get home. Mother, wait for me.

Fikar heart is wet with emotion, Fikar eyes are swollen with longing. Home, I've been in overseas land for almost a year and Fikar didn't even have time to visit him. Work turned me away from my lonely extended family. From a quiet father, from a patient mother, from Fikar five brothers in their respective lands. And from Dion, who now seems to be the only child at home.

Ah, how could my strong mother ... Fikar dare not imagine, even though worries have come earlier than bad and sad images. That afternoon, it was like Fikar was in a dim drama. Playing a character in a scene with a slow-motion effect to make it look more dramatic. That afternoon, the only woman in the Fikar family is facing a big struggle in her life.

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In the corridor of the hospital where Fikar's mother was treated, Fikar's five brothers and Fikar gathered in a circle. Without any orders, an impromptu meeting that afternoon was held. Fakhrul, the eldest in the Fikar family, arranged for the division of tasks to "return" home. Fikar's second brother, Rusydi, and Fikar were required to take time off this week to look after my mother in the hospital. Andi, Fikar's fourth brother was assigned to take care of the house, strengthened Fikar's father, who looked shocked by this news. Fakhrul and Aan, Fikar's third brother, will take time off the following week. Bang Alim, Fikar's fifth brother, will be a permanent guard because he works not far from Fikar hometown.

The first operation was declared a success. The cancer cells in her body had eaten away at her right breast. Previously, Fikar's mother had never told her father or us children about this. And that seems to make dad still look shocked. Dion was still beside the father, waiting for the mother to come out of the operating room.

After that day, the six of the Fikar family and the five brothers — came home more often. Sometimes I think, how ungodly we are. Just go home waiting for Fikar's mother to "call", whereas from the first mother has always been present in Fikar family lives without our need to call. Maybe this is how the old adage applies, the child loves all the time, mother love forever.

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Since the first day my mother was hospitalized, Fikar's father's attitude had completely changed. Turn 360 degrees compared to before. I thought this is the true nature of the father. According to my mother's story, Fikar father was a very cheerful, warm, friendly person, and did not hesitate to express affection. Yes, Fikar rediscovered father in Fikar's mother's story. And in fact, this is the essence of a short story you are currently reading.

"When are you married, Rus". At first glance, Fikar heard the conversation between the father and Rusydi in front of the room where the mother was being treated. This time Fikar's father asked with a bright face. His voice was warm, destroying the impression that the father we knew was a cold and quiet one before. After discussing with Rusydi, Fikar's father approached the bed where the mother was sleeping. He studied the face of the woman he loved so much. Father's hand seemed to reach something from his pocket.

"Do you remember this writing? Fikar still has it, always. Get well soon. You miss that bench, don't you?"

Father opened a scrap of paper, spoke as if Mother had read it. Fikar doesn't know what's in the paper he's holding. what is clear, for the sake of watching Fikar father sob, Fikar stopped my intention to approach him. Fikar was still pretending to be asleep on the sofa in the corner of the room, feeling a tremendous tightness in Fikar chest. Dad still continues his story in front of the mother, as if playing back fragments of their beautiful past.

Father stuttered to continue the story, his voice hoarse, occasionally heard sobs. Ah, since when did that ever-so-stiff and quiet father speak so much in such a gentle tone? Occasionally the father asked the mother and sometimes laughed softly, he reminisced about many things. Completing his longing for his mother. Yes, complete miss. There is a feeling of deep nostalgia in Fikar's father's voice. Longing that is not caused by geographical distance, but years of longing for the women he meets every day. Because the farthest distance separating them was not separation, but silence. Mutuality.

In his silent monologue before the mother, the father recounts the beginning of their meeting. Father and mother were brought together by a bench. You will definitely ask, "How come?". Yes, they were brought together by a bench. Father and mother studied at the same foundation during high school. The foundation where they learn separates male and female students. Male students enter school in the morning until noon, while female students enter in the afternoon until the afternoon. The building used is the same, boys use it in the morning, and in the afternoon it's used by female students. This situation gave birth to a kind of "tradition" among the pupils known as the "bench letter".

In the morning, a boy accidentally leaves a letter at school. In the afternoon, female students who are sitting on the same bench will read and then reply. Fikar mother and father, this is how they were brought together. Until finally they fall in love with each other and after having the courage, they decide to live together in the frame of marriage.

At that time, Fikar father really admired my mother, even though they had never met in person. Letters from a very intelligent mother, as well as stories about the achievements of mothers from some of my teachers and friends of Fikar's father, made Fikar father's love for his mother even more intense. The love and admiration grew even more after Fikar's father and mother married. They live a happy life. The life of a man who is stubborn and stubborn with a woman who is patient and more often submissive. Luckily, they are united by a common hobby: reading and gardening.

The household they live in is very happy. Until everything changed one night, when Fikar's mother was pregnant with Fikar's third brother. Mother, according to Fikar's father's story, became even more grumpy. Meanwhile, the father remains stubborn and the mother begins to lose her temper. That night because of a trivial matter (Fikar's father didn't tell me what it was), Fikar's father and mother had a big fight. Since then, Fikar's father has often been silent. Mother was busy taking care of us, her seven children.

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You don't know how great a woman is until you have an incident like Fikar. Until you get involved in the melancholy drama of life like the one I told you in this short story.

Mother has been called by Him a week since the incident of the father's monologue at the bedside where she fell asleep. Exactly three years ago. No one was ready for his go, especially his father. The illness, which was kept secret from us to its final stages and his fortitude in dealing with the pain alone, called us to return home. To father, to family.

For dad, mom's leaving had completely changed him. Every day, Fikar's father kept writing letters tucked into the school that brought them together. A bench from the past that we gave with various efforts to give father's 79th birthday. On the corner of the bench, the names of the father and mother were engraved.

Letters without reply kept tucked on the old bench in the corner of Fikar's father's room. He never missed writing letters as if her mother had always read and replied to them. Without saying much we agreed to continue to nurture memories of bench letters, of the great women in Fikar lives. About Mother.