First post, by Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman
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She died last week on Friday, June 6th, 2015.
It's kinda.... long story. My mother had been diagnosed with scleroderma (systemic sclerosis) when I was kid. I overheard my parents' conversation that most scleroderma patients wouldn't live past the age of fifty, and I've been worrying ever since.
Well, who knows? When she died, she was 72 years-old. The doctors always admired her spirit, her strong will to live. In 2008, she went to Mecca for pilgrimage, and returned healthier than ever. In 2011, she received an award as a life-time university lecturer, and I accompanied her to Bali for the ceremony. We extended our stay and took the opportunity to roam the beautiful island, and were very tired when ended the trip. But as I went ill due to exhaustion, she pressed on to Papua to fulfill her duty as senior consultant. Not only she stayed healthy, but she returned with souvenirs and funny stories.
In 2012, when she was 69 years-old, she took doctoral program in city and regional planning. No, she never needed the title, she didn't need to prove anything either; everyone in the circle already knew her. She did it because she wanted to academically formulate government policy to properly handle Foreign Direct Investment (FDI). Some of you probably knew that FDI has been a controversial issue in international economics. Countries that handled it properly, like Malaysia, Taiwan, and South Korea, obtain the benefits, while countries with weak FDI policies like Indonesia only suffer from it. Well, my mother's study is as such, but she did it from regional and city planning perspective. For instance, in West Java there are many FDI-owned manufacturing industries built on fertile lands. Not only such thing converted local rice fields to factories, but it also consumes considerable amount of water needed for agriculture. The West Java local government had tried their best to stem the advance, especially since half the country depends on the Java island as primary food source, but they could do very little against more liberalized international trade policies. My mother's thesis is basically finding a solution for such problem. And she did it because she loved the country, because she loved the people -especially the poor.
Such was my mother.
Yes, she is suffering from scleroderma, but she never complained at all. In 2013, she told about another scleroderma patient, whom was also a factory worker. Just like my mother, she also suffered painful wounds on the tip of her fingers -so bad that she couldn't work anymore. Meanwhile, scleroderma medicines are always expensive, so she couldn't continue her treatment. My mother urged that we should give that patient sadaqah so she could continue her treatment, so we went to the hospital. But it was too late, the patient already died. And my mother became very saddened. As usual, she worried more about others than herself.
Such was my mother.
In late 2014, she went through stem cell treatment to cure her scleroderma (it is said that stem cell has positive effects on scleloderma and lupus patients). I accompanied her to the city of Solo (where the doctor practices), and we had good times, visiting museums, historical temples, and other tourist objects on the way. At first, her condition improved, but she gradually got worse. Turned out it was because of her diet. Stem cell is still experimental, and in case of hers, it required very strict diet to help it work -very strict that it almost caused malnutrition. When we realized, she stopped her diet and got better. Then she became productive again and went back to her doctoral study.
About a month ago she went through sleepless nights to finish her doctoral assignments. Nobody pushed her, but she never wanted to be late in submitting her assignment. Like she always told me, "when I was teaching, I was always being strict to my students -always told them to submit their assignments on-time. Now I'm a student myself, it's appropriate that I live up to the standards I set for others."
"But mom, you are 72 years-old," I argued. Then she smiled and said that 72 years-old is not that old.
Such was my mother.
Nonetheless, her condition became worse after she finished the assignments, much worse that she was brought to the hospital. Turned out that her heart was swollen and her lung shrunk accordingly. Her oxygen intake became lower, her blood pressure dropped, and her pulse went haywire.
But she recovered nonetheless. Her oxygen intake went back to normal, her blood pressure improved, and her pulse became stable. The latest radiography also showed that her heart was returning to normal size. The doctor moved her from ICU to regular room, and we took turns to accompany her. I took the night shift because I have to work at noon, especially since I have to prepare the bidding documents. And as my mother told me, "you should concentrate on winning the contract. Don't worry about me, I'm fine."
Yes, she was conscious all the time. She looked fresh, and we even made jokes together when I was attending her.
At Friday morning, I said goodbye to her because I had to hand my works to be processed by our employees. She looked fine. She even asked the hospital for more substantial breakfast than just another porridge. My sister-in-law took turns, and my late dad's aunt visited her about two hours after I left. Heck, few days later, my sister-in-law said that she still enjoyed her visit.
Suddenly around midday, she fell unconscious, her heart rate went haywire again, and my sister-in-law called me in panic and tears. I drove to the hospital like crazy, and when I arrived, the nurses were busy resuscitating her, until the doctor told them to stop.
Needless to say I cried. I've never been crying for, like years, but then I cried out of grief and shock.
But despite her sudden death, her face was so peaceful; it looked exactly like as if she was sleeping.
We buried her Saturday. And I went back to work on Sunday, working my ass off like crazy. Part of it because it helps alleviating the trauma, but mostly because I knew my mother would be saddened if I abandoned my responsibilities because of grief. She wanted me to do my best; not because of the money, but simply because she said we are responsible to make the best of what Allah has given us. And she reminded me to pay the zakat accordingly, because we always have duty to the poor and the needy.
Such was my mother.
(yep, it's religious thing. And yes, I know some of my best friends are atheists and I'm fine with that; I don't expect you to understand, nor do I mean to evangelize. It's just what she said; it's just what we are.)
And yes, I won. No, no, I didn't win; we won.
I want to tell my mother, want to hug her, "mom, we win!"
But of course I can't.
Nonetheless, my mother was a fighter to the very end, and so should I.
So, here is Ir. Hājjah Siti Sutriah Kadar Nurzaman, M.T.; lecturer, scholar, regional and city planner, and the best mother one could ever had.
(She was 68 years-old when the photo was taken)
Never thought this thread would be that long, but now, for something different.....
Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman.
