Suksma Kakiang

Wise men have a saying “once you run, there will be a moment to stop for a while to take a deep breath and look what you’ve left behind.”

For me, that stop was on November 15th 2012 when I knew that my grandfather passed away.

I was having dinner when my mother gave me a call. As she burst into tears, I knew something unusual happened. It was already quite late and impossible to find a flight back to Bali. Planning to go the airport the very next morning, I had those vivid imaginations about my childhood moment. Texted my sister and brother, they asked for prayer. There was nothing I can do.

I was growing up in the middle of a complete – huge – family. Surrounded by grandfathers and grandmothers, I always know that they are getting older. But I was too afraid to imagine that they would leave this world before me. Leaving me crying behind.

Flying back to Bali, I saw his body. Lying on his daily bed, he looked different that day. I remembered it was more than 4 months ago the last time I talked to him. He smiled at me, warmly. On that day, 4 months later, he was white, cold, and hard. I kept on telling him I was really sorry I couldn’t be there when he was sick, I wasn’t there to take care of him, and that I just have my thesis finished and would officially graduate in just days.

But he didn’t say merely a word. He closed his eyes. He didn’t even smile at me like he used to always do. He didn’t hug me back no matter how loud I cried.

After two days, I saw his body burnt in fire. That man, who used to pick me up every day at school, bought me some meals, and smile happily when I went to a dance course, has turned into ashes and pieces. All left was his small bone. We picked it up and prayed that he would walk slowly back to the mother of earth to find some peace there.

We went to the sea and spread his ashes. My grandfather has come back to the earth, to the place where he eternally belongs. He is no longer here, not the soul, neither the body.

I hope he finds some good rest up there. I hope he is no longer suffers in terrible pain on his legs. I hope he sees me graduated. I hope he knows that his little grandchild has grown up. I hope he will smile happily when he looks down. I hope he knows that I am really thankful for having him. I hope he knows that I was once a happy little kid, because he was there.

We love you, kakiang. We will always do. Rest in Peace . 