Purnama Lighting City..

Purnama lit up my city tonight. As usual, I do my routine every month. Sit on the porch of the house with a cup of ginger wedang, while enjoying the bright moonlight. Every now and then, the night breeze flew over my fragile body, as if it brought a memory of the past which is sometimes poignant to remember.

I remember that time, the ninth full moon in 1972. You are present bringing joy to my life. You fill the empty spaces in my heart. Somehow, I feel comfortable when I'm around you. Perhaps because at that time, we have an interest in the same thing, from hobbies to life goals. You always give solution for my problem, vice versa.

Nothing feels like we have a lot of full moon. And we both realize that there is a flavor growing between us. Finally, the seventh full moon in 1977, I was going to apply for you in front of your family. I remember, when you continue to suck a smile because it can not bear to see my awkwardness in front of your parents.



I also remember that period, the first full moon of 1978. We decided to be bound in a sacred promise. Everyone present seemed happy. Until the event is over, the smile still frames our faces. And at that moment, I believe that nothing can separate us.

However, all the happiness disappears with the letter from the hospital you received. Ah, this is the memory I want to throw away. I remember, you read that letter when the full moon shone on the city for the third time in 1980. In the letter, the doctor declared that there was a disease that lay in your body -Leukemia stage 4. Finally I realized, there is one thing that can separate us, that is death.

At that time, you were crying in my arms. Spills all your grief: about unattainable dreams and a future filled with chemotherapy and drugs. I can only calm you, encourage, and search for the remnants of hope that are still left behind. Deep down, I feel guilty for not being able to take care of you completely. My heart ached when you told me about the pain from chemotherapy. It's a mirror, when I count the amount of medicine you have to drink every day. I can only hold back tears when I see you hug your fallen hair from chemotherapy in the room.

Twelve full moon have been passed, but no significant change. Doctors had suggested to do a spinal bone transplant. Unfortunately, of all the marrow donors given, there is no match. The disease continues to gnaw at you. The more days you get thinner. More and more intravenous tubes are installed in your body. I keep giving you support, trying to foster confidence to heal. Though your body is weak, I can see the burning spirit in your eyes. You can still smile above all that suffering. You can even make other people laugh with your candles, regardless of circumstances. I'm proud to have a wife like you.

Uh, this is the sad memories I have. One day before the fourth full moon of 1981. I opened the curtain that covered the bedroom window, letting the sunlight spread into the room. I see you're still sleeping. I go to you, want to fix the blanket covering your body. But a second later, there was a long silence from the heartbeat machine. Your eyes are closed. Your hands feel cold when I touch. At that moment, one of the biggest concerns of my life came.

I quickly summoned nuns, doctors and other medical personnel. I did not care about my style at the time-calling all the medics hysterically. You go into a room, while I wait outside and pray, hope everything's all right. I do not want your struggle in vain. Okay, I do not want all our struggles to go to waste. Let me be labeled selfish. But I want to continue to have you, and no one can take you from me, even death.

Unfortunately, I can not change destiny. At that time, the doctor had tried hard and your life was not helped. The number of platelets in your blood is only 10 percent and continues to decrease. My body stiffened when I heard it. All I had in mind was a shadow of the future, without you. I went back to the doctor, hoping it was a joke. But how stupid I am - the doctor has never joked in such a situation.

The afternoon before the fourth full moon in 1981. I accompanied you to the final resting place. Along the way, I kept crying. Because it's useless if I'm crying-that's all not going to improve things. I saw your face for the last time. Record the shape of your eyes, your smile curves, and the lines of your face: so that when I miss you, I can unpack my memory anytime.

Ah, good night, honey. You can rest as you please. You do not have to prepare my needs anymore. No weight is hanging on your shoulders now. See you again, honey. Time will meet us later.

Purnama lit up my city tonight. A cup of ginger wedang is gone. The big clock in the living room rang out 5 times. By necessity, I end my routine for this month. I say goodbye to the full moon that starts to lose its light. While praying, hopefully in the next month, the full moon can still accompany me-keep me company in filling the void of life.