Dusk Imagination..

I looked at the smile. The weak smile she gave only to me, to make me calm in the face of everything, or maybe to calm herself from the bitter reality of the world she had to accept. Really, I could not stand it all, if only he did not expect much from me.

"Keep reading, son, I want to remember more ..."

I want to cry just like that. But I can not look weak in front of my mother who is lying weaker on the white mattress. The smell of drugs pushed into the room where my mother and I were. I sighed, smiled at him, and resumed what I had not finished.



"Yes, at that time it keeps many memories of me and you. Remember when we first met, spoiled the beautiful colors, never before. Maybe the sky was happy, be a witness to the young man ... "

I paused, turning to my mother, who closed her eyes again, perhaps recalling her memories with my father who had been called by God first. Is this true love? When they both can not be separated in the world and in the afterlife.

"It's funny when you and I agree to meet each other when it arrives. Plain. Without knowing where the direction of our life after that ... Then a sudden arrival, crying, we take shelter. Do you remember when you wanted to leave me for war? Angry, but can not do anything. Can only wish you the best, and hope you'll come back ... June 30, 1990, I'll never forget that moment ... "

"June 30, 1997. I never thought I should betray you. Why should my heart be so open? I love someone here. Sorry, I'm married. But I want you too. Selfish self. When did you come, seven years do not have a chance, can I still hope? "

I'm a little jerked. I suppose what I've been reading is the outpouring of my mother's heart about her memories with my father, but is there anyone else?

As if reading my silence, mother opened her eyes.
"Dil, forgive my mom ... but there are other people ... who are very loving moms ever, besides your father ..." My mother looked guilty.
"Open ... read, January 7, 2000 ..," my mother said weakly. I immediately passed a few pages and arrived on January 7, 2000, the day of my birth.

"Den, today born a new sun for my life ... How are you doing there? Still remember me? I should be happy today, but I have bad news about you. Really, Den, you have forsaken me forever? It's been almost 10 years, why do not you ever tell me? Is it true? Then I must what now .... Why, why do you have to sacrifice yourself. Do not you ever think about the feelings of people close to you. What about that promise you promised? Promises that will not be fulfilled ... Yes, I know now. Your life just goes for the country, without love for me. Everything you did for me during that time was just a cover of yourself ... But you should know, that I never pretend ... "

Looks like I'm starting to understand. My mother still loves this person, and she does not seem to forget it. Living in sorrow, mother raises me with my father. Or it's just my assumption.

"Dil, your father was not as good as the mother imagined before. Forgive mother, but you must know about this ... Your father made a big mistake, Dil, he cheated on her and when mom expressed her mother's annoyance at her, she almost hit Mother with a table lamp in the living room. Mother did not want to live in hate, so she took you away from home at that time ... Mother then prayed that your dad would rather die, because according to the mother at the time, he did not deserve to live ... "
"But apparently, God hears the mother's prayer, but he hears it. Hahaha, it's the mother who will die ... "
"Mother ..." I can not help feeling. I immediately embraced my mother, cried, took out all my feelings in my mother's weak arms.

My mother was convicted of brain cancer when I was 12 years old, yes, 5 years ago, when at that time, my mother was trying to send me to school. Working toil as single parent. At that time, I did not understand anything, just amazed to see the mother more often lying on her little mattress. I was just focusing on my school. Study hard, to get a scholarship and not trouble mother again.

"It's okay, Dila, mom is wrong ... Supposedly, prayer should not be pronounced like that. Maybe the mother is punished by God ... Or maybe God even loves mom and wants to bring mother with Denny back ... "
I took off my mother's embrace, remembering that I still had to know something.

"That Denny ... who, ma'am?" Mother smiled again.
"In a way, Denny is the mother's first love, and probably also the last love, because she never feels this same to other men, including your father. She was a constant mother schoolmate, Dil. After graduating school, he chose to continue his education at the army school, he said to save our country from threatening dangers. "
My mom smiled again. That's the only explanation, short, but I think I can piece together all the stories. I do not want to trouble my mother by asking her to tell me everything. Yes, maybe better tomorrow.



"Yes, I'll just rest. Already Night. Relax, Dila will always be here, beside mother. "
Again the mother gave her a smile, before she closed her eyes, she looked at me deeply, "Dila, mother always loves you ..."
I have never thought. That smile and the gaze, was the last of my mother.

Sendja. Something my mother likes best. I took off his body when the reddish yellow sky had come. I hope this way, my mother can calm down there. I do not care. Right now I'm an orphan. Many people say I'm crazy, because I'm alone. In fact, I was never alone, they just never realized it. Never mind, the most important is my mother, leaving this world in a state of calm.

'Sendja, please, take my mom to someone she loves. Do not disappoint him. My mother has been so good all along. So is the story about you, everything is beautiful. Sendja, please, be nice. When you are gone, I hope you will accept me as your best friend, although you may know, I have committed a great lie, to my mother, to the people around me, and to myself ... '

"Dila, let's get out of here, it's almost night."
I heard him call me. I laid a wreath from me to my mother among the bouquets of my other mother's relatives, in front of her tombstone. Almost all the bouquets are dominated by yellow, orange, and red, the favorite color of the mother. I smiled, silently exclaimed to my mother who wishes it was quiet there.

I told him who was waiting for me, really, "Please, do not ever leave me, yes. Right now only you, and all alone, will accompany my days ... "
I walked home, and I was ready, ready to live a life of imagination. Real is complicated. At least I'm happy.