Legal Alien in Southern California (Part 6)

I was close to my grandma. We called her “enin”. I guess it comes from the word “nini” which means grandma in Indonesia. She was more than a grandma to me.

She was so loving and gentle. She would cuddle me, hugged me and told me that I was her prettiest granddaughter. I loved her so much.

She lived by herself in another city. She was so independent. She would come to visit and stay for weeks and then came home. My brother and I used to tie her up with fabric so that she couldn’t leave, lol. I remember I was always sad every time she had to go home.

She was diagnosed with cervical cancer. The whole cancer treatment made her body swollen. She always asked me to give her a massage and told me that I gave the best massage.

Early morning before I left for the States, she was sleeping with me in my bed. After she did her morning prayer, she started to cry. She was asking me whether I was sure to leave her.

“Nin, the flight is in 6 hours.” “I can’t cancel anything now.”

“Are you sure?” She was crying, and she started to sob.

“What if something happened to me while you’re far away over there?” she cried.

My heart breaks. “Don’t say that!” I said while crying with her.

I left for the States that afternoon.

Four months later, I got a phone call from my mom. She told me that Enin is not doing so well. She’s in the hospital, and they don’t think that she’s going to survive. The whole time she was asking for me. So I emailed my international student counselor to let them know about the situation, and I booked the next flight right away. The whole time I can’t stop thinking about her and our last conversation.

I got to the hospital and immediately go into her room. She got all kinds of tubes. I can’t believe how much changed in 4 months. She doesn’t look good at all. My mom was trying to wake her up and let her know that I’m there. She opened her eyes for a second, and the next thing she went into a coma.

A couple of hours later, she passed away. I was in disbelief. She was my person who loves me, who always hugged me, cuddled me, told me I’m her prettiest granddaughter, who always asked me to massage her, who always wear the most sparkly top, who always gave me wise advice and now she’s gone. I was heartbroken.

We went to her hometown to have her burial service. The jetlag and my state of mind, everything seems like a blur. I do remember that we had to bathe her dead body. I’m not sure if this is a tradition or something related to religion. The only people who can clean her were the women in the family. I was one of them. My mom kept telling me that I couldn’t cry while bathing her because that means I’m not sincere and I’m not letting her go.

There she was, lying on a gurney, in front of her house while a lot of people gathered around her.

She was wearing just a cloth fabric wrap around her. I barely recognize her. She was bloated. I still can’t believe that this is my Enin. My mom reminds me again that I can’t cry. I took a deep breath and started bathing her with water. This whole ritual is killing me inside. I don’t remember much after that.

After staying in Indonesia for a couple of weeks, I went back to the States. I felt like I have an empty void that I didn’t know how to fill. I never felt so alone.