The Hair Chronicle Part 1: The Longest Ever

on Tuesday, May 7, 2013
These days you may see a lot of girls walking around the mall with their long, beautiful straight hair waving behind them. As to me, I've just cut my hair after I've grown it to the longest length I've ever had. Ever.

People may call it "buang sial" and this time I have to agree with those people. Many things had happened while I was with my longest-hair-ever, and I'd like to share one of those moment.

I lost my grandpa last February. On 21st to be precise.
As an only child in a small family, I've known him closely for my entire life. My memories are filled with him. For the last two years he's been living with me and my parents. We've been with him through his days in the hospital when his PPOK (Penyakit Paru Obstruktif Kronis) gone bad, and we've been laughing with him on his good days.

Even to this day, I must fight hard to hold my tears when talking about him.
One thing I hate the most from loss is that you will always have this feeling of emptiness in your daily habit.
Those things that you used to do with their presence yet now you do it alone. The feeling of incompleteness.

My grandpa was there to welcome me home after my bachelor thesis defense. He took a picture of my Letter of Accomplishment with his Blackberry and used it as his profile picture.
At the end of January, he got into hospital since he's suffering from a heavy breathing problem caused by the PPOK. After a few days in the hospital, the doctors allowed him to went home, only to be checked in again on February 9th.
My graduation day.

He only saw me wearing my 'toga' through pictures. But I'm glad he had a chance to see it. Two or three days later, the doctors said he must be put into the ICU because they need to monitor his PPOK 24/7.
During those week in the ICU, his condition was decreasing even worsened each day. The doctors took any action needed to save him, and finally on the 20th of February, he was conscious enough to speak.

The next day he died of heart attack.
They said that we've been care too much for his lungs, we forgot that his heart was tired.
I think he's tired of fighting. He simply wanted to meet the love of his life who passed 3 years earlier.

A priest who was my mother's high school friend told us that during a visit, my grandpa had said this:
"Sudah terlalu lama menunggu untuk ketemu dengan mami (my grandma). Selama ini saya tunggu karena saya mau lihat Gebi lulus. Sekarang dia sudah lulus, berapa lama lagi saya harus tunggu? Saya sudah capek."
My grandpa was a very kind and loving man. I was touched to see the amount of people who came at his funeral and actually felt the loss of his death. One thing that people keep telling me was how proud he was to me. Even to my small accomplishment, even to the simplest thing I've done, he never stopped feeling proud.

Well I take it as a personal reminder and encouragement, that no matter how bad I feel about myself, there's always one person who never stop feeling proud of me.
And that I need to keep making him proud.

So long, grandpa. Until we meet again.