Last night, when I was enjoying my time with Nadira and hubby in front of our TV, a friend gave me a very bad news. My friend’s wife who’s in a coma for about a week passed away at around 9pm. All of a sudden, tears were raining down from my eyes. I sat in silence while hugging Nadira, trying to absorb the news and cherish my moment together with my family, all at one.
When I posted a little note about death, lots of my friends (who’re mostly mothers, btw) commented, they felt the same way as I did. It’s hard to imagine our children’s lives without us. Who will take care of them? Will they be well taken care of? Will they miss us, their mothers? Will they remember us? If they have stepmoms, will they experience bad things just like Cinderella or Arie Hanggara? And so on. And so on.
Tadi siang, gue melayat ke rumah duka tempat jenazah istrinya teman gue disemayamkan. I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. And I guess, other people also felt the same way as I did. Gimana nggak? Temen gue berdiri di samping peti mati istrinya dan terlihat hancur banget. Begitu gue peluk, dia bilang “Ra, akhirnya jadi begini Ra” sambil nahan tangis.
On the contrary, di sebelahnya, their three-year-old daughter duduk sambil makan lolipop dengan wajah kalem dan senyum simpul. Tenang banget dia ngeliatin orang satu persatu yang datang, mengucapkan belasungkawa, memegang pipinya kemudian sibuk mencari tisu untuk mengelap air mata dan ingus yang keluar dari hidung masing-masing.
Padahal di rumah duka itu suasananya panas banget, sumpek, crowded and full of strangers. Si anak tetap anteng dan nggak rewel sama sekali. Begitu gue cerita ke hubby via BBM, komennya bikin mata gue basah lagi: “Mungkin juga secara alam bawah sadar si anak sedang ‘mengantar’ ibunya lewat kerelaan seorang anak kecil.”
Mudah-mudahan pendapat hubby benar. Mudah-mudahan dengan ‘kerelaan’ si anak melepas ibunya ke alam baka, arwah si ibu bisa tenang di sana.
*picture’s taken from here *
Ah udah ah, mewek lagi kan 😦
Anyway, ini gue sertakan puisi tentang kematian dari Kahlil Gibran. Menurut gue, puisi ini bagus banget karena describing death sebagai sesuatu yang tidak menakutkan. Malah di sini, Gibran meminta keluarga dan kerabat yang ditinggalkan untuk bisa ikhlas dan tidak bersedih.
Just like I wrote today in my twitter account: “I hope someday I could be like the third brother in the Tales of Three Brothers (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) who can greet Death as an old friend, not as an enemy”. Amin.
The Beauty of Death XIV by Khalil Gibran
Part One – The Calling
Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated with love and
Let me rest, for my spirit has had its bounty of days and nights;
Light the candles and burn the incense around my bed, and
Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over my body;
Embalm my hair with frankincense and sprinkle my feet with perfume,
And read what the hand of Death has written on my forehead.
Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for my open eyes are tired;
Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and soothe my spirit;
Weave from the harp and lute a veil around my withering heart.
Sing of the past as you behold the dawn of hope in my eyes, for
It’s magic meaning is a soft bed upon which my heart rests.
Dry your tears, my friends, and raise your heads as the flowers
Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.
Look at the bride of Death standing like a column of light
Between my bed and the infinite;
Hold your breath and listen with me to the beckoning rustle of
Her white wings.
Come close and bid me farewell; touch my eyes with smiling lips.
Let the children grasp my hands with soft and rosy fingers;
Let the ages place their veined hands upon my head and bless me;
Let the virgins come close and see the shadow of God in my eyes,
And hear the echo of His will racing with my breath.
Part Two – The Ascending
I have passed a mountain peak and my soul is soaring in the
Firmament of complete and unbound freedom;
I am far, far away, my companions, and the clouds are
Hiding the hills from my eyes.
The valleys are becoming flooded with an ocean of silence, and the
Hands of oblivion are engulfing the roads and the houses;
The prairies and fields are disappearing behind a white specter
That looks like the spring cloud, yellow as the candlelight
And red as the twilight.
The songs of the waves and the hymns of the streams
Are scattered, and the voices of the throngs reduced to silence;
And I can hear naught but the music of Eternity
In exact harmony with the spirit’s desires.
I am cloaked in full whiteness;
I am in comfort; I am in peace.
Part Three – The Remains
Unwrap me from this white linen shroud and clothe me
With leaves of jasmine and lilies;
Take my body from the ivory casket and let it rest
Upon pillows of orange blossoms.
Lament me not, but sing songs of youth and joy;
Shed not tears upon me, but sing of harvest and the winepress;
Utter no sigh of agony, but draw upon my face with your
Finger the symbol of Love and Joy.
Disturb not the air’s tranquility with chanting and requiems,
But let your hearts sing with me the song of Eternal Life;
Mourn me not with apparel of black,
But dress in color and rejoice with me;
Talk not of my departure with sighs in your hearts; close
Your eyes and you will see me with you forevermore.
Place me upon clusters of leaves and
Carry my upon your friendly shoulders and
Walk slowly to the deserted forest.
Take me not to the crowded burying ground lest my slumber
Be disrupted by the rattling of bones and skulls.
Carry me to the cypress woods and dig my grave where violets
And poppies grow not in the other’s shadow;
Let my grave be deep so that the flood will not
Carry my bones to the open valley;
Let my grace be wide, so that the twilight shadows
Will come and sit by me.
Take from me all earthly raiment and place me deep in my
Mother Earth; and place me with care upon my mother’s breast.
Cover me with soft earth, and let each handful be mixed
With seeds of jasmine, lilies and myrtle; and when they
Grow above me, and thrive on my body’s element they will
Breathe the fragrance of my heart into space;
And reveal even to the sun the secret of my peace;
And sail with the breeze and comfort the wayfarer.
Leave me then, friends – leave me and depart on mute feet,
As the silence walks in the deserted valley;
Leave me to God and disperse yourselves slowly, as the almond
And apple blossoms disperse under the vibration of Nisan’s breeze.
Go back to the joy of your dwellings and you will find there
That which Death cannot remove from you and me.
Leave with place, for what you see here is far away in meaning
From the earthly world. Leave me.