i don't remember much.

...

And as I grow older, my memories will start to fade. Although moments that I remembered were trivial, but they're precious to me.

Going to a carnival, all five of us, using the old mega pro. I remember standing on the seat on our way there. Come to think about it now, it's very dangerous. But I was ecstatic. They bought us cotton candy that night.

We played paper dolls a lot. I remember him turning on the fan on both siblings' direction, not mine, so they have to rearrange their 'houses' while I laughed at their misfortune.

I remember us three joking around outside the praying room, i guess that was when I recently stopped being breastfed. I don't know why, but I thought nipples were hilarious that time. We laughed a lot that afternoon.

I remember the time he had to do morning prayer twice, just to lead me to pray. I don't remember much about learning to read Quran from him, but I remember that morning that I was praying only wearing underwear under the robe because mother refused to iron my kindergarten uniform (that weird yellow and green outfit) twice.

I remember going to the school he worked once, because there was no one who can look out for me after I got home from kindergarten. The trip to the school was long. The school itself seemed so big and empty.

I faintly remember the taste of his instant noodle. He added his unique touch with more seasonings and ingredients to make the meal tastier. I don't know how he can make the soup yellow and thick. All I know is that it was delicious.

I remember the first time I competed on the mosque's reading Quran competition. I was the first one that have to read the Quran.... and lost miserably (this was the start of my misfortunes with lot). Well, I was six and the other contenders were like four or five years older than me. He got me home afterwards.

I remember he flicked my ear once because I was being stubborn on going to Grandma's house for an event (mass praying or something), because then I'd skip the evening prayer. My ear was red and hurt, I cried, but he's firm on his decision, that I have to stay at home and pray before we went there. I know that I was being silly that time.

I remember the Eid Mubarak celebration that year at grandma and grandpa's house, when our youngest aunt was still pregnant with her youngest son. We took pictures of all the family members, except for mother's younger sister family who already went back because of the inheritance things. I didn't understand much that time. But I got a lot of money from mother's oldest brother.

I remember the trip to Brebes, the first and the last time we went there together with the Carry. The trip was long and we made frequent stops. We even stopped at Tegal (his friend's house).

I remember the trip to the hospital. I ate the leftover pudding mother made for him when we got home because I was starving. It was pink and very sweet. There's also a time when there were several people prayed for him at our second floor.

I saw his face for the last time that day. So many people came. They stuffed his nose with cotton. He looked peaceful.

I regret not seeing the burial, for I was too busy crying because mother fainted. But to think of it now, maybe I would be wailing and creating a fuss if I had gone to see people cover him with dust.

I used to think that I'm either special or unfortunate for growing up with only a parent. But now I feel lucky that I even had the chance to know him a bit. For there are far more people who does not even know their own parents.

I just wish that I was able to talk more to him. To know him better. To be with him for a longer time than six and a half years.
It's been twenty years since the last time I saw him.
I miss him.