pojok monicantik : my corner to be free

Pain has no prejudice. God allows us to experience pain and suffering in our lives. In my own experience, the past 3 years have unlocked new depths of sorrow that I have never once experienced – through the unexpected death of my mother, my father’s stroke that left him completely incapacitated i.e. the locked in syndrome, and my brother’s near death experience. On top of that, I quickly became my family’s breadwinner, with a huge responsibility of financially supporting my father and siblings – which is quite substantial given my father’s state of health as he has lost complete independence and he needs a full time caregiver for his basic needs. The past few years has driven me to depression, anxiety, and hopelessness. I felt disappointment in God – how could He let my family go through this – and in such a short period of time.

I still remember that day. It was a Wednesday, February 3, 2021. It was just another work day and I was on Teams calls. I went to my mailbox to get some mail and as I approached my apartment door and my phone reconnected to wifi, I started getting video calls from my sister. It was odd to have her call at this time of day – First of all, she is a true gen Z girl who hates phone calls. Second, it was a weird time of day – if we do talk it’s usually in the evening after my workday. There she was. Actually, there they were. My mother, father, brother, sister. They were crying hysterically and I could see my mother, face as white as snow. My sister wailed, “Mama’s gone.” I was in a state of shock. And in minutes, I watched her death rattle. I watched her take her last breaths. All through my phone screen. I still remember my words at that moment. I sobbed hysterically and screamed at the ceiling, “The light of my life is gone.” Everything after that was blurry. I told one of the VPs at my company since we were exchanging Teams messages at the time, and I typed, “My mother died.” Not long after, my boss showed up at my apartment, then my VP, then some friends, and another coworker. I was in a state of shock. The days, weeks, and months that followed were a blur. I remember waking up and not believing what happened was real. I thought it was a dream. I am thankful of the outpouring love and warmth my friends and family showed me.

Watching my mother’s funeral on Zoom, February 2021

Grief is a strange animal. I thought grieving my mother’s death was bad, but it is nothing compared to grieving my father’s locked in syndrome. The photo below is our last family photo before my father’s stroke and my brother’s near-fatal case of COVID.

April 2022 a week before the worst period in my life

14 months after my mother died unexpectedly, my father had a massive stroke, that left him paralyzed, unable to talk or swallow. 2 days after arriving in Jakarta, my brother was rushed to the ER and he had seizures. We were told it was a dire life or death situation. I remember my dad, my sister, my aunt, uncle, and I were gathered around his hospital bed as he was on life support. I have never prayed as hard in my life. I sang gospel songs in his ear so he knew he was not alone. We were whispering our goodbyes in his ear. At midnight, the ER doctor said our option was for him to be put on a ventilator, however he could die in the process. My dad and I agreed to it as long as he was not in pain.

I do not have any memory of what happened the next day or the day after but we learned he was diagnosed with COVID and he had to be isolated, as per government regulation. We could only see him through an LCD TV. I knew that crushed my dad. I don’t know why I didn’t take off work, but I think working was my escapism. Drowning myself in work allowed me to unfeel the pain.

A week later, I go to work and I get a text that my father was having a stroke. I went to the ER and there he was lying helplessly. The next few days were a blur but all I remember was at that time, my father and brother were both in the hospital – only different floors and all that time, my brother did not know about my dad’s stroke. We decided to keep it from him, worrying that the shock will deter his recovery. I have never ever felt so lonely in my life. My sister was there but she was just starting college and I can tell she was overwhelmed. The following months were a blur and were the hardest months of my life. As crazy as things were, I had a deadline at work and I somehow, with every fiber of my sanity, managed to pull that off.

Fast forward 2 years later, my father has been living with locked in syndrome. He has vastly declined. He has been on a feeding tube and he is completely dependent on a full time caregiver that carries him, washes him, and changes his diapers. While my father is physically alive, ever since his stroke, he has been a completely different person. I know deep down inside he is still the father that always affectionately called me “hasian” or “sayang” while at the same time pushing me to become the best version of myself, often through tough love. Grieving the living is a lingering pain, different from grieving the dead.

It took a lot of discipline to not cry in front my of dad. That is my golden rule, “Do not cry in front of Papa.” Why did God allow my father to go through this – the unexpected death of his wife, almost losing his son, and living locked in his own body, unable to move, eat, or talk. My heart breaks. It shatters just seeing him. His body has utterly failed him and it is unfair. My only living parent.

July 2024

Today’s sermon was about pain. The pastor said a few interesting things:

• Your pressure points create potential: there is value in suffering. In the bible we are invited to suffer, and the Lord will give us understanding. So does this mean, my pain is God’s entry point? It’s a pathway for God to come in and work through my pain? Am I willing to let God in, and lay my pain in His hands? What does that mean exactly, like in a practical sense? These past few years, my relationship with God has been rocky. There were times I grew bitter, why would a loving God allow such horrific things happen to my family. My parents were good people. They always put others’ needs before their own. Why did she have to die first and he have to suffer?
• Your pain points have purpose in people: In my story, my pain has unlocked a deeper understanding of love, and bond in my family. We are still navigating the aftermath of the family tragedies over the past few years. I am still learning to recover from the dysfunction and how we can empower, trust, and love each other. My pain points have forced me to step up, not just as a sister, but almost as a quasi-parental role. I am now a breadwinner – which has overhauled my lifestyle and spending habits. I now have to carefully budget so I have enough money to send home to put food on the table, pay my dad’s caregiver, put gas in the car, and pay for medicine.

“You are so strong, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” is something I often hear and never knew the response for. I am not strong. I have been operating on survival mode, and some days are easier than others. I know one day, my nervous system will heal, the grief will never go away, but perhaps, just maybe, some day I will be happy again. Until then, I am working on myself to heal, focusing on my family, and making sure I am doing everything I can to protect and provide for them. It is exhausting, but unfortunately I don’t have the freedom, nor the heart, to walk away from this. If God put me in this position, he will see it through.