My younger brother would’ve been thirty-four today – he was born on June 29, 1974. God wanted him sooner than the rest of his siblings, that was why he returned home on February 28 this year. Had he been around still, he might’ve had a barbeque at home and he would’ve invited all of his siblings who live in Bandung, as well as the numerous nieces and nephews. No, he wasn’t rich at all, but he loved to entertain – he loved to cook and he loved to please others.
I still miss him immensely – I still see him at his shop, as well as seeing him lying in the coffin. I can still hear him asking me how I have been and what handset I am using, and whether I can bring the unused handset so he can use it or sell it. I also remember the call that I received from my second sister in the evening of February 28, when she couldn’t say much in between her sobs – I could only hear one word, “Hanhan …”. Hanhan is my younger brother’s pet name and in that moment I realised that there was something terrible that happened to my brother.
The grief has dulled down with time – I am certain that he is in a better place. However, how can I stop the memories of that phone call, or the face in the coffin, or the fact that I’m missing him from coming through? It’s true that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I wish my brother were still around … God loves him more and wants him back home sooner.
Happy birthday, Hanhan!
We love you and we miss you so much – have a big barbeque up there in Heaven, will you? I hope we’ll see you again soon …