DJamari, December 2002
The rainy season has started coming, overnight rain did not stop until the morning, making gengan water everywhere, last night I slept very soundly, and the program this morning I slept late, my alarm clock did not ring, I do not know what was happening with my favorite hour that, and I've replace the battery, but somehow it did not alarm clock rang this morning. Akupun lightning speed into the bathroom and wash my body.
Today was my first day as chairman of the Student Organization office in my school, I had arrived early, to be role models of my friends, I have also come out of the door of my room, my dorm phone rang, I stopped for a moment, I expect someone who loves to call my.
Tehupiory Mariana, a young woman who always sat in the dorm office, the days he spent talking on the telephone connection, this time he was seriously received a call that, I stepped my foot more reluctant to go to school.
Not much later I was on the call by the dorm mother, I still wonder to myself, what the hell, if there is good news or bad news even for me?
I went into the office with a thousand questions asamara in my face, in the office, dorm mother was waiting for me.
"Please sit down Jim" applauds matron. I was sitting right in front of him.
"Did your family, phone, and told a news for you" She said the dormitory began this conversation. I began to get nervous, my hands started a little wet and my heart was beginning to calm down.
"Do you love your father? He asked again. I still can not understand where this was, what with my father? I love my father, I love him, although sometimes never heard the advice and words, but he remains a father to me
"3 days ago, your father had died" Obviously matron. I began silent, my heart pounding, tears dripping, I was shocked. The weather had turned cloudy, as if I understand the situation now.
DJamari, I loved my father, a tall man, with a skinny body, a male player UNFORGETABLE (Traditional Drama Java) in my village, a man who always spent his old age in rubber fields, a man who had left his artistic soul into my blood . I still remember my friends at that time did not ever mention my real name in junior high, they called my father's name "DJamari" to call me so I call the "Rome" for Erick Maramos, or "Suar" for gembulku friend, Adi Daya.
Native Men's Central Java with my mother, leaving his family for transmigration were to Lampung, tried to change fate, trying to find a better life in the land of Sumatra.
In 1975 my parents got this Lampung land, they opened the forest, making agricultural land together with the transmigration of Javanese land, making a place to stay and until the end of his life he was a farmer and a poor immigrant.
At first our families are families that mampan at the time, our land area, too many of our animals, we got a Honda motorcycle 80s, motorcycles only in our village, but the condition is reversed 180 degrees in 1988, my father's business destroyed, he failed to become candidates Lurah. Plus his penchant for the likes bejudi and drinking make us suffer until now, slowly but surely, the land area of our family began to decrease in the sale by him to cover the debts of our family.
A very valuable lesson for future foster family, debt, gambling, drinking, and infidelity are four things that make a home destroyed ...
I stayed still do not say anything in my seat, I was still crying, I ran into my room, opened the family photo album, I look for a father figure who was instrumental in my life. I was disappointed why after 3 days died, I was new to tell? Why can not I see my father's face for the last time? When she cried release me, when I was going to Jakarta,
That's when - when last seen. Father ... .. excuse me ...!
Read more
-010604.jpg)
