THE TWO BROTHERS
They called themselves as “chicken legs”, they were only two in the family, so when one leg lost, the chicken would be crippled, no more balance, no more health, only sadness left.
It proved! When my uncle passed away decades back, I could only see sadness in my daddy’s eyes until he also passed away in 1994 when I was still posted as the Commercial Counselor at the Indonesian Embassy in the Netherlands.
Both died at a very young age; my uncle died when he was only 49, my daddy a bit fortunate when he was 67. My grand father died when he was only 44 because of the revolution against colonial Dutch; no one found his body until now, what we buried only his picture. My grand father’s friend who happened to had been saved by the Indonesian guerrillas at that time, told the family that my grand father had been seen to had been onslaught by the other groups of rebellions that were consisted of robbers and wild rebels. My Grand father was a very well known rich man from Highland Karo, so presumably he must be killed to stopped him from supporting the revolution.
What I can recall until now is how my uncle and my dad loved each other so much. They were always behave like two little kids when they met, they could sit together, talk, laugh, and everyone can see very clearly, how they cared of each other so dearly. They both were our two pillars, very strong, very protected towards their children, very tough and hard working persons, never complain at any circumstances, even at a very low point of their life.
Our parents taught us, how to live in simple way yet valuable to other people and to our country. Regretfully however, none of their children could endure that way. We were all, included my cousins lived exactly like excessive spoiled little kids; and even until now, almost none us could live as fighters as our parents. We could only sell our heritages one after another, until only very few left. None of us seems wanted to keep our parents legacy, to keep what left for our future generations.
In sadness I write this article, with tears in my heart. I wish my siblings would read this article one-day and aware of how important love is in life, how important is caring of each other rather than quarreling, how important the togetherness and to be grateful to what God gives through our parents.
Yes, our bodies is the symbol of love of our parents, the bodies and souls are the most important. As Christian we can rely to our believe that God will not leave us all starves, yet He wanted us to work hard too, to respect each other and to love each other, so that we can leave peacefully and help the others.
I wish the fighting spirits of our parents would re-born in us and we can wake up as new persons again, full with love and full with the fighting spirit. I amen to that in Christ name.
In memory: My beloved uncle, aunt, dearest mommy and daddy. Photo taken in January, 1972 right after New Year, in front of my uncle’s villa, at Gundaling Hill, Berastagi, Highland Karo, North Sumatra, Indonesia. From here we can see very clearly the volcanic mountain, Mount Sibayak.