I vaguely remember how I used to count my step whenever I walked beside my father. He’s not too tall but he has long stride; he walks slowly but steady. And I need two more steps to equal his one. Sometimes I skipped a little just to keep the rhythm.
We don’t walk together much. Sometimes I accompany him to our small plantation (we called it ‘darat’ or land in English, perhaps because we live along the river and the plantation located far to it? I don’t know), or when he occasionally brought me to Tembilahan at the end of month (I loved it there because I finally can see the real ‘trotoar’, I mean I knew the word from dictionary but never really seen it in real life, lmao).
Anyway, my father doesn’t hold my hands much during walking, so I can freely move here and there, seeing around, and bit running when I few steps behind. But what really sunk in my memory is actually the little steps I have at that time.
Yes, I was a little boy. For sure I will be catching up many things as they’re bigger and faster and something that never will be on my level. But those kind of feeling always linger actually. The feeling that I am a little one, and people around me are far bigger and I need to skip those steps a little just to stay together.
And I did it. I mean, I always have the time to do that. I feel like because I am a chaser, there is always thing to run after. My father. My sister. Fireflies in the dry season. Grasshopper during rainy season. I set my pace, and the world seems fine. Whenever I am in doubt, I know where I need to look up to.
My family give me that kind of security.
So, whenever I felt that Athifa is bit slower than any other kids, I will always talk to myself, that she’s just fine. I know there are many things considered as an achievement for kids — read this read that, excel in math excel in draw, speaks four languages, and the list is never ending, lol.
But that’s just… what? I don’t know. Perhaps you’ll feel better when your children achieving that; but how about them?
I don’t remember winning something is really making me happy. I never lose 1st place in school, but not that thing that made me happy, actually.
It’s the security around it: knowing that I am capable of doing something, and knowing that I have people to support me. Family. Teacher. Friend.
Athifa is one little ‘weird’ girl. She loves swing (I never do, swing makes me sick). She’s very good at lego bricks. She doesn’t like to read books alone (on contrary again, I do). She is very good at following order. I mean, those kind of things. She started to make friends at school now, very good. I thought she’ll have difficulty to do that but turned out she’s just fine.
But what I really hope is that she’s happy.
That she has her own pace. Her own time.
Her own world.
Because if she doesn’t, then what’s the point?
We still don’t do birthday for her (I initially want to have a cake for her, but yeah, you know me); but I just want her to know that this five years, watching her basically almost every day, is one ‘heaven on earth’ journey for me. And for that, I am a very thankful father. I love you. Thank you. 🙂
Aku mengenalnya di grup LINE mantan pengguna Multiply yang entah kenapa seperti berbagi rasa yang sama di sana. Rasa kangen terhadap Multiply. Salah satu media sosial yang mengantarkanku untuk ‘berkelana’, mengenal beberapa orang yang berikutnya menyentuh sisi-sisi kehidupanku dan mereka tak pernah sama lagi.
Henny dan Adit adalah dua orang penulis yang kukagumi karena alasan yang sama, dan berbeda.
Aku tidak ingat kapan persisnya, jatuh cinta pada aktivitas membaca. Sekarang, yang bisa kukenang hanyalah kilasan kenangan sepenggal majalah bergambar domba hitam yang tersesat di putihnya salju; atau tenda-tenda para pengelana dengan petakan sawah di tepiannya. Entah dari kisah mana. Atau majalah apa.
dibuang [sayang] 