2022-04-30

Reflecting on the Death of My Father

Chronology of Death

My Father, Adrinoviar Budiman bin H.R. Hariono died of heart attack at 26th of April 2022, aged 53. He left behind my mother, me, my 22 year old brother and my 14 year old sister. This was the 24th day of Ramadhan, which is within the last 10 days of fasting.

Ramadhan is a special religious month for muslims. More so during its last 10 days, when it is said that the angels descend directly to earth.

The day when he died, my father was going about his usual schedule - he went to mosque to do Isya and Taraweh prayers. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except that on this partciular day, he felt tightness in his chest after Taraweh - and so instead of doing the next prayer, Witir, he went home instead.

Mother found him sitting right outside our home gates, unable to open the gate with the keys he brought.

Immediately mother and brother brought him inside and lay him on the sofa, where father requested canned oxygen because he was not able to breathe.

Mother offered to buy the oxygen from the store, but father doesnt let her do that - "Please don't leave me, I am afraid there might not be time" said him - so mother went to our neighbor instead.

It's a very good thing that our neighbor, Pak Arif, is a good person. He immediately personally helped by providing a canned oxygen, and calling his friend Pak Bagus, leader of that sector of the neighborhood.

After being given the Oxygen, father felt relieved, said that he felt better. My brother, pak Bagus and pak Arif sat beside him, and was instructing my father to say the Shalawat, La Illa Ha Illalah and Astaghfirullah over and over again.

Pak Arif and Pak Bagus also called the ambulance. When mother was preparing my father's ID, my brother said to my father: "Father, please recite Istighfar" - he's going in and out of conciousness. Mother went to my father's side, and once my father said "La Illa ha Illallah" it was as if something was pulled from my father.

My mother knew then that my father was already gone.

Checking the pulse confirms this. Mother took father to the hospital anyways, where this was confirmed by the doctors.

My father died that night. I did not see him die.

What You Felt Hearing This

That all happened when I was still in Singapore, getting ready to go home the next day - thinking that everything was just as usual. After all, I just talked to my father that morning, and he was already planning to come pick me up from the airport.

I was home when I heard. Mother called at around 10 PM Singapore time. She was in tears, and I was barely able to hear what she was about to say. But I knew when I heard her crying that something bad has happened - part of me knew it's going to be about my father, too.

Couldn't sleep at all that night.

First thing I felt was shock and disbelief - I had a very hard time getting it into my head that my father was gone, and what the implication of that was. I walked outside to think about it. The realization along with the tears came eventually. I cried and cried, and felt my sadness on the edge of my throat. Like the sadness is clawing to get out, it feels like being choked from the inside.

A lot of things went through my head - is this really true, or did I just misheard? How is this possible? Am I now responsible for my whole family? How do I prepare to be the one responsible for my whole family? What about the things I haven't had the opportunity to say to him? How was my mother, brother, and sister feeling?

Where is he now, and is he suffering?

There was also the shocking realization that the world still goes on anyways. I still have a future, I will still have my own kids that wont meet their grandfather, I still have to take care of my mother and siblings - I still have to continue life. All that, without the protection and guidance of my father. Having been reliant on my father for most of my life, this was a punch in the gut.

I felt like I had suddenly grown up - felt like there was now no one to protect and guide me through the harsh realities of life. Now I was on my own.

It was all quite overwhelming, but it was overpowered by the sadness - the realization that I will never get to talk to him ever again in my life.

The Following Week After His Death

With the help of my uncle, I booked a flight directly for the next morning.

The whole trip back was quite surreal - a mixture of lack of sleep, sadness, and shock contributes to a feeling of not being there, of just having my mind wander and not being aware of my surroundings. It was a miracle that I was able to pull myself together.

Arriving at my house, I was immediately greeted by all of my family, especially my mother, brother, and sister. First thing I did was to go to my father's side. Hist lifeless body was put in the middle of the living room, sorrounded by family and friends.

I said my goodbyes and prayed for him. I was at a loss of words, unable to know what to say. There were so much to say still that I could not say anymore.

I kissed him on the forehead. It was cold, like meat washed with cold water.

Over the course of these episodes, tears are a given. But what I've found is that over time, you grow tired of crying - but the pang of sadness persists. I've also found that the things you are sad about changes. Instead of being sad of him being gone, I was sad seeing all of my other family members being sad. I was sad of not knowing what my father is feeling and where he was then. Most importantly, I was sad of seeing my mother suffering.

That day, we prayed for our father in the mosque, and buried him. I personally buried his body, jumping down to the hole that has been dug for him. I wrapped my arms around him for the last time before putting him gently down to the ground. I positioned his head to touch the soil. When it comes to reciting the Adzan (as part of the muslim burial ritual), ast the first son, I should have recited it - I ended up not reciting it. My mind blanked. I let my uncle do it, and I regret that now. But I forgive myself, since everything was very shocking for me.

We went back home after burying him. Around this time, a lot of people have left, only families stayed.

Mother cried on my father's bed where he was sleeping the night before his death. "He was still here last night.. I can still smell him from this bed" while tightly hugging the pillow my father used the previous night. Me and my siblings consoled her, but we were also crying.

The following weeks were mostly busywork - we prepared daily prayers with the Mosque for our father, we cleaned up the house, and we preprared for Eid Al Fitr. Busywork helps us cope and forget the reality. But we still cry whenever we have time to ourselves - particularly during prayers.

I personally cry inside whenever I see my mother sleeping by herself on her large bed, with the absence of my father beside her.

Grandfather, Grandmother, and my aunt also stayed in our house for a few days. Theirs and all of my family's love really helped us cope with the death.

And so it comes to now, a week later. I'd say we are not as sad as we were near the time of his death, and we have been strengthening each other. All the love from our families, friends, and neighbots have also helped a lot in our coping, of getting us to understand that we are not alone in this. The money gathered from people will also help with our troubled financial conditions for the months to come.

I cannot say that we got over it, I cant even say that we will get over it eventually.

I imagine the fact of him being gone will be felt for the rest of our lives.

What You Learned

There was quite a lot that I learned.

On Death

• Memento Mori.
• Death is a reality that you will have to face. Your family's sadness because of your eventual passing will also happen one day.
• Death does not wait for you - it comes when it comes, earlier or later. Are you ready?
  • Do not die before you get a chance to do taubat, pay your debts, and settled your problems with others.

On Responsibility

• Bad things happen suddenly, but it is your choice to let it change you for the better or worse. Instead of a cause for despair, I've framed my father's death as a challenge for me to be more responsible in taking care of my family.
• On the day of my father's death, I felt like I grew up immediately. No more being carefree, as I am responsible for my family now. This responsiblity, instead of weighing me down, have acted as the thing keeping my sanity afloat.

On Relationships

• The most important thing in the world right now is taking care of my family.
• Proactively keep in touch with your family, neighbors, and friends. Always treat them well, as they will be the ones taking care of you when things like these happens.
• Be kind and befriend the people around you, because that is what will be left with them when you are gone. Nobody talked about my father's achievements during his burial.

On Coping

• Religion helps us with coping with the fact of loss, by giving us the possibility of meeting him again - however irrational that is, I still truly believe it.
• Busywork helps keeps our minds off things - so during times of hardship, always have something to do.

Miscellaneous

• Always tell people you trust of your important accounts: whatsapp, password, bank accounts, etc.
• Keep your heart healthy. Exercise, eat well, rest.

The Future

Though there are only four of us now, I am not afraid of the future. Whatever happens, we will be able to handle it.

But we need to cultivate some important things to make sure that our future is safe.

1. We need to stay healthy both mentally and physically - keep our exercise, and reduce unhealthy food.
2. Our family communication will need to be more transparent between each other - so that we take care of each other better.
3. We need to cultivate our relationships with our families, friends, and neighbors.
4. Most of all, we need to up our religious endeavours - to always pray for Father and to hope for someday meeting him again.