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People often understand about parents’ cry when their children mess up their parents’ life. But I almost never hear that people will understand about children’s cry when their parents mess up the children’s.

What would you do when your parents ill? A friend of mine, just call her name Fredlyn, recently has been complaining. Her old man sounds been sick. It’s not really bad, probably some kinda obese and arthralgia. But I assume that’s disturbing. Obese makes people lazy. And the joint-ache has been troubling that man from moving his arm.

According my colleague who cured him, the dad should stop eating purin. And quit smoking. Fredlyn has been helping to limit the diet at home. But the dad got furious, coz he felt been restricted from delicious foods.

As a doctor, I saw Fredlyn might’ve misunderstood about the diet. Actually it’s not about fully restriction from delicious food at all, but it’s just necessary to decrease the portion. But the big problem ain’t Fredlyn. The error point is her dad denies from making up the menu and quitting from cigar.

Fredlyn’s effort to treat her dad has been obstructed since last week the dad declared to quit the therapy. Briefly, the dad gave up from recovering. Fredlyn cried.

I understand what made Fredlyn sad. There’s no children who are happy to see their parents ill. That’s why children always try to keep their parents fit. The problem is, the parents decline healthy life.

I’m sure that Fredlyn ain’t the only one. There are lotta other children suffer coz their parents make too much scene. My mom has been sad coz her mom (my grandma) has been furious if her children (my mom, my uncles, and my aunts) are not around her at 10 am, though it’s office hour. My dad’s been upset coz his mom sacked an housekeeper that we sent for her, though without the housekeeper my grandma won’t be able to clean up the house well. I’ve been also mad at my dad coz recently he didn’t wanna quit snacking chips at midnight, ignoring the fact that he’s diabetic.

We, the children, wants our parents reserved, fit, and being understanding. But parents refused from listening to the solution that we create. Meanwhile, they can’t give better solution for their own good, either. In fact, since Fredlyn’s dad got ill, all he’s been doing is just grousing her around. My mom’s mother has been frustrated of loneliness, that makes her often phoning her children’s office, only to call them home. Last week someone stupid has broken the water pipe at town, made the PAM must switch off water from streaming to houses. That made my grandma had to bail the well alone coz she had sacked the housekeeper. And now I should insulinize my dad. Briefly, when parents mess up, that’s when children are annoyed.

If only children are disaffected, they should’ve been yelling, “Mom, Dad, please don’t be silly!” Parents don’t wanna understand, as they ill, children gets troubled. It’s hectic, and it’s sad. Parents may say to the children, just mind their own business, no need to care about parents, at least parents will die coz they’ve been aging. They never care that as parents die, children gets sad coz nobody will pray for them anymore.

I understand, as someone gets old, problems come up. There’s degradation of organ system’s function at body. There’s degradation of ability to keep their selves from accident. There’s degradation of ability to thinking. But after I saw lotta people start to grouse much as they get old, I’ve started to wonder, as we’re getting older, is there any degradation of mental to be a good person, too?

More aging a person is, then more getting sucks the person becomes.

And I don’t wanna be like that.

Please enjoy your single stage. Coz one half of your life, is ruined by your children. While another half, is ruined by your parents.

Tags: parents

Maybe you just love the outer side.

But when you’re asked to get into the inner side, you’re not interested of it.

I fought with my parents last week.

I wanted them to go with me to a mall, coz I read in the newspaper that there was a bamboo traditional art festival on the mall.

But my dad wanted to go to an electronic shop, coz he wanted to buy a TV.

I told him to wait for another day if he wanted a TV, coz the festival weren’t always held annually (or probably I wouldn’t notice if there was, coz the event organizer looked stupid enough, didn’t know how to make promotion).

My dad asked why I wanted to see the bamboo festival.

My dad said that if I just wanted to see angklung, he would take me anytime to Saung Mang Udjo on the eastern town. I felt I wanted to throw him a chopstick coz he said that.

Didn’t he know that all I wanted wasn’t seeing people play angklung, but I wanted to see crowd in parties?

Briefly, that day I accompanied my parents to a tv shop.

We went home by bringing a pretty good enough TV, but I wasn’t really enthusiastic coz I’d got my mind in the festival.

I really wanted my dad to accompany me to the festival after we returned from the damn TV shop, but it was already midday and my dad had already been exhausted.

Finally I asked him to be dropped on the mall and I didn’t look at him anymore.

It wasn’t just an angklung show.

I saw people played Sundanese gamelan and Balinese gamelan, mixed with techno and ska, and even jazz.

People came into the crowd ahead the shows, and I must struggle to find a strategic position so I could snapshoot, but it was really a joyful day.

I returned to home for an hour (my house was just 20 minutes driving from the mall) to charge my cellphone’s battery, coz the cell was the only instrument that I got and accidentally the battery was low. I sweated and I smiled, but my face was shining of cheers.

I told my mom that I just came home a minute, then I’d be back to the mall.

My mom asked what kinda show that I was gonna see there. I saw a lazy expression on her face, and I realized that she wasn’t really asking.

So I just answered, “I’m gonna see a bunch of people playing music full of noise.”

I wasn’t kidding, the sound system in the festival was so loud and the techno ethnical music was really enormous.

I returned to the festival with much more ammunition: a stomach with full of homemade food, a cellphone which has been recharged a third, and a pocket camera which guaranteed of battery-saving.

The day had already been late, the music got out louder, the artist performed all out crazier.

I was more confused coz it was getting harder forme to prefer, whether I should join the shaking into that goddamn cool gamelan ska music or I should concentrate in snapshooting.

I came home from the festival late at night, very extremely exhausted, but it was really fun absolutely.

Yesterday, I evaluated the pictures that I got and showed them to my mom.

My mom got astonished coz actually the bamboo festival wasn’t just a people’s parade to play angklung on the stage as she thought before, but it showed a lotta people played angklung on the center plaza of the mall. People played Sundanese ethnical instruments in rock nuance in a pub.

A woman danced jaipong with Samba rhythm arrangements on the background.

Including a band played rap with Balinese rhythm.

My mom said, if only she knew that the show was gonna be like this, she would have joined me into the festival two days ago. I just shat up my mouth coz I didn’t believe her.

I’d asked my dad and my mom yesterday, I’d told them that it was an ethnical music festival.

But they refused to join me and preferred the damn TV. I knew that ethnical music was their favorite.

Then I realized that my parents might just like it coz they loved heard them slightly, but if they’re asked to watch the real show, they wouldn’t always accept it.

It’s like as if you like something coz it looks good, but if the thing comes up to you, you just say no.

As if you love the look of a cheese cake, but if someone offers you to taste it, you refuse it coz you’re afraid the extra-topped cheese will make you sick.

As if you like someone, but if the person wanna get close to you more intimately, you just run far away with no reasons.

Indonesian proverb says that it’s called hangat-hangat tahi ayam. Warm like a chicken sh*t.

Tags: family, festival, music, parents