A month before 30

Hi there, 

I know, I know, it's been a long time coming. I feel ashamed that it would take me turning 30 years old to get another post after a long hiatus from writing. 

It's not that there is a lack of things to write about. Let's see, many things have happened. I will try my best to chronologically look back on the things that happened after I start my doctoral studies. 

First of all, Tante Nia died on the 17th of January 2024. Honestly, on the last post, about what happened that last time I went back to Indonesia before coming to Freiburg in November 2023, I wanted to tell you about what happened to her. During the time that I was in Indonesia back then, her health had gotten worse. As I arrived in Germany at the start of my PhD, it was really difficult to be excited for it when my mind wandered again and again to the conditions at home. It almost felt that I did not really want to be there at the time.

However, due to the prior commitment that I made to my PhD supervisor, I had to leave Indonesia, at the time when she needed me the most. And I had told her that I did not want to go, and that I had felt guilt even, for planning a wedding in the limited time I had in Indonesia. 

To that she simply said, "why do you have to stop living your life for the sake of someone else? Of course, you should go get your PhD degree, of course, you should get married." I often wondered, with a slight anger, why God would choose the best of us to go much too soon. 

If I think too much about how kind she was to me, I feel that I might burst like a bubble into a pool of tears. When she got sick with this cancer relapse, one of the things she told me when we're alone as I accompany her in the hospital, was how sorry she was to put me and my brother through this again. She did not say specifically what, but I know what she meant. Losing a mother figure to cancer is something we had been familiar with before. 

I couldn't help the tears after she said that. It was not even her fault. 

Then she passed away, and of course, her children and Om Yoyok, were the ones most bereaved. My heart was with them who I consider as my siblings and my last remaining parent and father figure in my life. 

The next time I would see them again, was the time I got married, on the merry month of May, 2024. I remember the day so clearly, and how ominous the storm the night before the wedding felt. But that storm paved way for a clear blue sky at the day of our (outdoor) wedding. You can imagine our relief in the morning. Here are some my favorite photos that my cousins took from the wedding: 

What we (me and Bintang) learned in the process of organizing and planning the wedding (partially remotely) was how rewarding it felt to make your family happy. Initially, we did not want to have a big wedding. We wanted something intimate and private, more of our friends than our family. 

Over the time, the plans started to change, and we had a larger number of people to invite. On that day, we saw so many of our families reunited, our aunts and uncles met with their cousins who they only see at most once per year. There were laughter and they were happy, and that made us happy. We even almost forgot about the sun that hurt our eyes and made us sweat in the blistering heat as we sit in the podium on what felt like all day (it was in fact only a few hours). 

After that, I went back to Germany, and Bintang to Japan. As if nothing happened. We would meet again 6 months later, when I visited him in Japan. But a week before that, I made a short journey back home to Indonesia, and attended the wedding of my cousin, Hana, whose mother was my mother's dearest most beloved sister, Tante Sofia. 

She had helped me a lot during the preparation of my wedding, and I had promised then, to fly back home when her daughter would be married. She was really happy and healthy, and she had the look of a parent who had sent away her last child to be married (aka relief and ecstatic).

How blind I was to the fact that that would be the last time I got to see and hug her in person. She passed away so quickly on the 18th of March 2025. I really thought I would be able to see her again, as I planned to fly home to be with my family during the Eid holidays. 

Most importantly, my Nisa (Tante Nia's second daughter) who I dearly love, was getting married and I just had to be there. Bintang also flew home to be with me, so it was just a heavenly three weeks of vacation, of seeing my dearest ones be happy. And soon, she will have a baby! I am so excited for her, although not sure yet when I will be able to come back home again. 

I cannot possibly fit everything that happened the past two years in this post. But as you can see (read), it has been a roller coaster ride of death, wedding, death, and wedding the past two years. I still half-believe that we survived through all of that in one piece. Physically, yes in one piece, but heart? Not so sure. 

Grief is a funny thing. You will never see it coming, and once it comes, it makes you realize how you are not as strong as you thought you were. It's humbling really, and almost "tendering". It makes your heart more tender, if that makes sense. Maybe because you realize the power of grief can be overwhelming, and you know that all you can do is surrender to it. 

Love, 

Rifa