The Meaning of Devastation

She just finished her short trip from the Mess Hall, a large multi-function room where they usually have their meals, when she realized that her cell had been off the whole evening. She turned it on and she read the first text. ‘0815… had tried to call you earlier’.

Then the next text.

‘Allahu Akbar. There’s a problem with your sis’ pregnancy. The fetus hasn’t developed well. She’ll be operated on soon.’

Her dad sent it. She re-read it for she couldn’t believe her eyes. Reading it for the second time, she felt her body in the air and numb all over.

‘No..no..no… This can’t be happening,’ she mumbled.

She’d called her sis the day before and her sis had told her that her condition was better and eating anything had been possible at that time. ‘Everything was bettering…, ‘ that’s what she’d thought when she heard the news. Hopes were blooming, dreams were difficult to control.

‘Mbak, please pray for me. I am going to the doctor this evening at 4.30. Please pray for your future nephew.’ That was another text she’d got before the doctor’s verdict came and she replied, ‘Amen. Hopefully everything is okay.’

Such a short text, full of expectation. ‘Ahhh… my Akbar (that’s the name she’d decided to give her nephew. She’d been expecting a boy) will soon brighten our home. Can’t wait till May. We have to prepare a baby crib in our room. Toys. Baby dishes. Just can’t wait!!!’

Yep. She was full of expectation, alright….

The news seemed to bang her ears so hard that made her difficult to decide who to call first.

Her sister? She might still be crying then….
Her father? The news certainly reached him first and such news would definitely crush him. At times like this, she knew that she’d have to play ‘big girls don’t cry’ mode if she decided to call him….
Her brother? He might be at the office. Even if she called him, he would give her ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ lines and those were the last lines she’d want to hear.

She dialed a number and she heard a husky voice at the end of the line. Her sister had been crying and she still was. The talk was short because her sis’ voice between her cries was too much to bear. She decided to hang up just before she started feeling the heat in her eyes.

She dialed the next number. Noises were the background sound. It’s clear that the phone’s owner was at a public place. Then, she heard her brother’s answer phone. She asked him to go home early. ‘Dad didn’t want me to go home early yesterday,’ he said. His answer nearly blew her to the ceiling. ‘That was yesterday. When nothing happened. Today is different.’ The silent dialog just hung in her head. She swallowed everything and instead she said, ‘Just go home when you’re done with your business, will you?’ She quickly hung up before he answered. She didn’t want to hear them. She might not like them at all.

She dialed another number. Her dad answered the phone with a tired voice. She knew that he was at home alone and he’d have a hard time dealing with the news. She asked her father to be patient. He answered, ‘This is not the first time we have had such terrible times. I am sure we can deal with this one. Just like the ones we had had. Don’t worry about me.’ His voice sounded so peaceful to her. As difficult as coping with his own feeling, her dad didn’t want her to worry. Something that is becoming so ’him’ recently (not wanting his kids to worry too much about him). The call soon ended with him saying ‘Don’t worry, OK?’

She felt so tired….
She was in front of the television during the calls … and she’s still there …. watching the program, not knowing what they actually were. How she wished that she could cry … hoping the pain to go away ….

Her wish was granted that night.
Well, sort of….

She did cry, but the pain still lingers….