25 Years of Father
It's Hard to Believe This Sick Day

In the room is now me, Mamah, and one of Dad's friend's men. The three of us just kept staring at the monitor ahead. The graphics that continue to move irregularly increasingly make my tears and Mamah fall. Same with the man who became my friend. He continued to recite prayers. I saw his hand holding Dad's leg while giving him a gentle massage. Sometimes I hold my feet which feels very cold. The worse feeling the stronger I felt when I felt that part of Dad's body was cold. Even up ahead Dad's still breathing but it's because of the assistive device that sticks to Dad's mouth.

"Well, I'm out first? The three of us will be afraid to be rebuked by the doctor." Mom nodded her head. I shed a cry outside after running into the waiting room.

Tonight it's just like waiting for the time when God calls Dad. Despite refusing thousands of times in fact I can feel that time is coming soon.

Angga hugged me who was sitting crying in the waiting room. Ica sat down crying and saw me crying.

"Darling, it's been yeah. We pray only the miracle of God that we hope for today." We were all shocked outside when Dad's friend in the ICU ran outside.

"Your father, Anggia. Your dad." He shouted while running back in.

No more asking, I ran inside. My sister and Angga also ran at the same time.

The first time I saw a painful moment like this. I no longer wear breath aids. The doctor has helped regulate the breathing apparatus he holds while on the paste back in Dad's mouth.

"Dad, let's get up. God heard my prayer once. Lord, please do a miracle for my father." I kept talking until the doctor pressed on Dad's chest. I cried seeing no reaction whatsoever that Dad gave me.

"Dad!" I yelled no matter if it was in the ICU. Both cold feet I kissed many times.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. Forgive Anggia, Father. Wakes up. I'm up." That second also my room felt so crowded. I don't know who's coming.

My eyes were only on Dad. The doctors there are still trying to help get your heart rate back. Until they all gave up.

One by one I saw the faces of everyone who came. I don't know why it feels like a dream. I left at the same time so many people came.

I'm shaking. "No. It's not real. Father must still be there." I muttered continuously shaking my head. My hands are still massaging my feet.

"Darling, strong. Dad is no more." said Angga who hugged me from behind.

I laugh. It's not sad at the moment. I just feel like I'm dreaming. The three nights I was with Dad weren't a long time.

"No, Angga. This is not true. Dad's alive. I dream, don't I?" I didn't realize I was screaming so loud. Maybe it's true that by hurting myself I can know this is real or a dream.

Many times my Angga hand reached out and hit me in the face. I kept doing it until Angga hugged me.

"Anggia, already. Dad no longer exists. Don't be like this." I keep shaking. It's so hard to feel like tonight's a reality. The father I've always seen fight his pain is no longer able to fight. My father, who was most powerful in fighting pain, has given up.

I sat outside for a long time after Angga took me out of the room. I just sat looking at everyone who came. The hospital was full of many of my friends.

My tears kept falling without me making a sound.

"Lord, what is this? Is it really me, Mamah, and Ica? Why does it feel like lightning? I can't feel it's real yet, God? Dad, I'm not pregnant. I haven't seen my son..."