
Lama gak nulis, kangen banget. Lama juga aku gak apdet sosial media (Facebook, Instagram, Tiktok, Youtube) setelah apdetan terakhir klip “berpulang” nya mamah.
Adapun apdetan sebelumnya: trip ke Antalya, York and London. Tak lama setelah itu mendapat kabar mamah masuk RS. Penyebabnya karena beliau terjatuh.
Ini bukan pertama kalinya beliau terjatuh, mungkin karena keseimbangan tubuh beliau. Mamah dan bapak tinggal berdua, tapi ada yang jaga. Saat kejadian yang jaga lagi gak ada. Setelah itu mamah masuk RS dan dirawat. Aku telfon beliau, bertanya kondisinya.
“Kumaha, mah. Mamah pengen Osi (sebutan kecilku) pulang?” tanyaku.
“Iya, pulang atuh.”
Dari suara yang kutangkap sepertinya beliau baik-baik saja, hanya keluhkan pahanya yang sakit. Tapi entah kenapa, hati ini berkata “PULANG!”
Sebetulnya kami (aku dan suami) udah punya tiket pulang untuk bulan September. Artinya, Juni pulang, September pulang juga. Kebayang waktu, tenaga dan biaya yang double. Belum lagi jatah cuti yang makin habis. Tapi rasaku tetap berkata, “PULANG!”
Besoknya, aku ngomong sama manager, acc!. Malamnya langsung booked tiket dibantu suami (as usual). Besoknya, adik ngabarin.
“Teh, mamah udah pulang. Kalau teteh gak pulang juga gak apa-apa. Toh, September jadi pulang kan? Mamah aman!”
Result dari RS, kemungkinan retak tulang. Harus kontrol tgl 8 Juli ke RS yang lebih besar untuk tindakan lebih lanjut. Mungkin operasi atau apalah itu. Baiklah, mamah pulang… Ehm.. aku bimbang. Besoknya, aku bilang ke manager and kolega. Gimana nih, batalin cuti bisa gak? Kupikir ulang, cuti udah di acc, temen-teman aman. Sementara beberapa minggu kedepan banyak teman bergantian ambil cuti hingga peak season Agustus, summer holiday.
Aku tanya suami dan anakku, gimana nih, cancelled? Setelah di cek, Ya ampun.. Ternyata tiketnya non refundable dan gak bisa diganti tanggal pula. Sumpah, ini gak biasanya. Biasanya suamiku sangat teliti saat booking tiket dan bayar biaya ekstra agar bisa ganti tanggal. Entah kenapa yang ini enggak.
Saat bimbang, hati tetap berkata, PULANG! Semua persiapan singkat. Ada waktu seminggu. Itupun tiap hari aku kerja utama dan ada kerjaan part time lainnya. Sepulang kerja aku nyicil beli oleh-oleh ini dan itu, ritual rutin setiap mudik. Sebelumnya, aku tanya mamah.
“Mah, mau dibawain apa dari Inggris?”
Ah, gak usah bawa apa-apa, atahna weh (mentahnnya saja aka uang) 😀”
Joke klasik yang sering terlontar di antara kami.
“Palingan coklat weh,” ceunah
Harr… haha
Lalu kutanya bapak, “Bapak hoyong dicandakeun naon?”
“Ah gak usah,”
“Naon atuh, kaos?” paksaku, karena beliau jarang banget punya permintaan kepada anak-anaknya.
“Eta weh atuh baju koko, buat ke mesjid,”
“Atuh baju koko mah gak ada di Inggris,”
“Ya udah atuh, beli di sini weh, nanti,”
“Kaos weh nya pa?” paksaku.
“Nya atuh. Tapi gak usah maksain kalau gak ada waktu mah. Ku pulangna ge bapak mamah mah atoh pisan. (Ok, tapi jangan memaksakan, dengan pulangnya kamu, sudah bikin bapak mamah bahagia).
Obrolan di WA itu pun berakhir.
Sepulang kerja aku ke supermarket beli banyak oleh-oleh coklat. Setelah keluar supermarket, masuk WA dari bapak.
“Kata mamah, pengen coklat yang di kaleng,” ceunah.
hm.. coklat apa ya? Aku berpikir keras. Aku pernah beliin beliau coklat apa ya? Di kaleng? Seingatku bukan di kaleng tapi Celebration/Heroes/Quality street gitu deh.
Besoknya, sepulang kerja, aku ke supermarket lagi. Aku ubek supermarket” di LB. Gak nemu apa yang dimaksud mamah. Akhirnya aku beli coklat lindl , coklat kesukaanku, kuharap mamah juga suka. Selain itu, aku beli dua box coklat, rasa campur-campur. Satu lagi, mamahku suka banget kacang pistasio. Aku beli banyak. Ya, namanya juga keluarga besar. Bungkus…
Pulangnya, aku nyicil packing koper.
“Gimana kondisi mamah?” tanyaku pada adik.
“Tidurnya kurang nyaman. Posisi tidurnya harus tinggi. Kiri kanannya harus diganjel bantal juga.”
Hm.. hal itu membuatku berpikir, gimana caranya agar beliau nyaman?
Aku punya bantal yang bentuknya unik. Kayak “V” atau “U” beli dari ikea beberapa tahun lalu. Kupikir itu akan nyaman buat beliau. Sebetulnya saat liburan Agustus tahun lalu udah coba cari di IKEA Indonesia (Padalarang-Bandung) tapi gak nemu. Nyari di olshop Indonesiapun gak nemu. Adanya yang besar. Seperti bantal ibu hamil yang ukurannya setengah kasur. Busyet… Tapi kayaknya bantal itu nyaman juga buat mamah. Akhirnya aku minta pesankan ke keponakanku. Bungkus..
Sementara itu, aku tetap akan membelikan mamah bantal di ikea. Pulang kerja, cus.. Rencana beli 1, jadinya 4.
“Gimana ini bawanya?” suamiku terheran-heran.
Prinsipku, beli aja dulu, kebawa apa enggak, gimana nanti 😀
sofar ini unusual things yang aku bawa ke Indonesia. Semua ini demi apa cobak?!
Demi kenyamanan mamah saat beliau tidur.
Gak hanya itu, aku bawa pula sarung bantal, sprei/selimut, handuk putih yang tebal dan nyerap air, sampai throw cantik dan lembut. Semuanya buat ibuku. Satu yang gak bisa kubawa, kasur” 😀
Pulangnya, aku packing lagi. Sayangnya cuman muat 2 bantal. Jatah bagasi 23 kg. So far baru 17 kilo. Wah? Bulky sih. Tapi ringan.
Besoknya, pulang kerja balik lagi ke MK. Beli beberapa kaos dan barang lainnya. Pulangnya packing lagi. Koper Full sudah! Tapi masih 20 kiloan. Bawa apa lagi ya? Bentar! Di kulkas ada mature cheese cheddar, butter, telur, terigu, komplit! Malam itu juga aku bikin kue keju aka kastengel dua resep. Kelar tengan malam! Berasa mau lebaran. Dapurku wangi kue tengah malam. Btw, kastengel ini kesukaan mamah banget.
Tenang sudah, flightnya besok.
TERBANG. BISMILAH!
Penerbagan Jumat, suamiku sengaja ambil cuti. Ini kali pertama aku pakai Cathay Pasifik, untuk menghindari jalur Timteng yang masih bikin was-was suamiku, padahal tiketnya lebih mahal loh, tapi okey lah.
Penerbangannya 12 jam lebih, bikin panas pantat! Kalau jalur timteng kan dibagi dua jaraknya. 12 jam lebih itu bisa nonton film full 4 judul, 4 kali makanan/cemilan. Makan, tidur, nonton, pipis – makan, tidur, nonton, pipis, gitu aja terus berulang sampai 12 jam. Nyampe Hongkong, stop over 2 jam, lanjut Jakarta. Hp setting flight mode.
Saat landing, buka HP, banyak messages masuk. Mamah masuk RS lagi. Keluhannya bukan karena soal tulang yang retak itu, tapi sesak napas. Bandara Soeta – Bandung sekitar 3 jam. Nyampe Bandung lepas isya. Tadinya aku pengen pijat dulu di tempat spa langganan, lalu makan malam, ke rumah, istirahat, mandi, lalu ke RS. Tapi rencana berubah.
Tiba di pool bus Primajasa Batununggal aku dijemput adik ipar dan ponakan langsung ke RS. Gak sabar ketemu mamah tercinta. Satu koper bagasi, satu koper cabin, tas tentengan masuk ke bagasi mobil.
Mobil memasuki area parkir RS di kawasan kopo. Wah, rumah sakit ini banyak berubah. Rasanya lebih luas. Lebih modern, banyak cafenya. Saat memasuki bagian dalam RS, eh, rasanya sama seperti dulu, puluhan tahun lalu. Koridornya, ruang-ruang rawatnya, taman-taman kecil depan kamar-kamar rawatnya.
Memasuki ruangan mamah ada rasa gimana gitu. Nyaris 20 tahun aku di Inggris. Tiap mudik selalu kujumpai mamah dalam suasana gembira, tawa dan canda. Tapi kali ini beda. Hawanya gloomy, sedih.
Kucium tangannya. Berbalas cerita kita. Gimana kabarnya mamah, apa yang dirasa? Gimana kabarnya aku, sama siapa ke Indo? Sendiri? suami dan anak-anak gimana kabarnya, jam berapa dari Inggris, jam berapa tadi nyampe?
“Mah, Osi ada oleh-oleh buat mamah, tapi masih di mobil, ujarku,”
“Ih, panan mamah bilang gak usah riweuh bawa oleh-oleh, asal eta weh,”
“Eta naon kata aku dan adikku sambil ketawa”
Atahna? Hahaha.. Semua yang ada di kamar itu untuk saling pandang dan saling paham.
“Ya udah, atahna..” kataku bersemangat.
Candaan ini bikin hatiku senang dan tenang, artinya mamah baik-baik aja. Gen tukang heureuy dan ngabodor ini mamah turunkan pada anak-anak dan cucu-cucunya, eh, malah menantunya juga.
“Ya.. aku gak punya uang, kumaha atuh?” kataku.
Mamah menatap tak percaya. Sementara itu aku keluarkan lembaran uang berwarna ungu.
“Ih, duit naon ieu?” mamah mengernyitkan dahi.
“Duduitan,” timpat cucunya
“Duit teu payu nu kitumah,” sambut adikku.
“Kumaha atuh?” beliau lirik tumpukan uang bergambar Raja Charles tersebut.
“Duit monopoli eta mah?” timpal yang lain.
“Ya, piceun weh atuh,” lanjut mamah disambut tawa yang lain.
Aish.. bisa jang meuli motor sakieu teh. Motor tilas.. hahaha
“Mamah pengen berapa?” tanyaku.
Belaiu menyembut sejumlah angka.
“Kumaha lamun dikali dua,“ saranku.
Beliau tersenyum mengiyakan.
“Kumaha lamun dikali dua deui?”
Tambah tersenyum ia.
Yaudah, besok nya.. Etapi, GMC (Money Changer) besok kan tutup. Kieu weh.. Aku berbisik pada iparku.
“Mah, aya oleh-oleh buat mamah, tapi di mobil. Osi ambil dulu ya?”
“Engke ka dieu deui moal?” seolah ia tak mau ditinggal.
“Iya atuh, da tadi rusuh saking pengen cepet-cepet ketemu mamah,”
“Ya sok atuh,”
Di tempat parkir.
“Sok buka itu kopernya. Di koper besar ada 2 bantal. Di koper kecil ada coklat, kastengel dan pistachio,”
“Ulah kacang mah. Engke weh mun udah pulang ke rumah. Ini terlalu banyak.”
Oiya, sebelumnya aku tf ke iparku dan tarik tunai di lobi RS.
Kembali kami masuk kamar mamah.
“Yeu mah…,”
“Wah…,” ia kibas-kibas uang berwarna biru itu.
“Seger mah?” tanyaku.
“Seger?” ulang yang lain di ruang ini.
“Seger….,” timpal mamah berbinar disambut tawa yang lain.
Moment kecil kayak gini tuh bikin aku senang bukan main. Alhamdulillah. Sungguh tak terlihat kesakitan dalam diri mamah. Saat itu benakku berkata, mamah hanya perlu istirahat beberapa hari di RS saja.
“Rin, simpen di dompet,” pinta mamah pada adikku.
“Siap bos!”
“Nah ini coklat pesanan mamah,” aku buka boxnya.
“Kela, emang boleh?” tanya adikku.
“Iya, emang boleh?” mamah yang awalnya antusias jadi ragu.
“Emang mamah sakitnya apa?” tanyaku.
“Jantung dan ada sedikit batuk,”
“Ah, biarin lah. Asal jangan bilang ke dokter dan suster,” ujarku.
Yang lain sepakat sambil ketawa-ketawa. Umur 81, 56, 53, 51 dan 20. Ibu, anak, mantu dan cucu yang pada bandel kayak anak SMA yang sedang melanggar peraturan sekolah hahaha…
“Ya.. coklatnya meleleh,” aku lap lumeran coklat di bibir dan dagu mamah.
Ini coklat Inggris, perlu hawa dingin. Agar sensasi gigitan tengahnya lebih terasa saat padat, ujarku.
“Iya, ini mah malah jadi kaya kue klepon!” ger.. kembali kami tertawa bersama.
“Cik, nyoba!” adikku, ipar dan keponakanku riweuh.
Belum lagi riweuh pada makan kue keju aka kastengel buatanku yang kres dan kejunya ngeju banget. Ya pastilah.. Kejunya cheddar extra mature merk cathedral, butternya premium pula, dan tentunya dibuat dengan penuh cinta kasih, dibawa melalui banyak benua, puluhan negara, mengudara dan memakan waktu perjalanan selama dua hari dua malam.
“Udah ah, buat nanti lagi,” ujar beliau.
“Nah yang ini bantal,” aku tunjukan dua bantal yang gepeng karena vakumnya bagus, kemasan aslinya Ikea Milton Keynes.
“Bantal?” ia terheran.
Kuceritakan sejarah bantal tersebut.
Hari kian malam, puas rasanya nge-treat mamah sedemikian rupa. Tadinya aku pengen nginep di RS nemenin adikku dan mamah agar bisa cerita banyak melepas kangen. Tapi lelah ini tak tertahankan. Aku sudah lusuh pula. 2 hari 2 malam perjalanan.
Keluar rumah dari LB hari Jumat jam 9 pagi, ini masih di RS hari Sabtu jam 10 malam. Berapa jam tuh? Lebih dari 2 hari ya? Belum lagi masih harus ke rumah. Rencananya pengen makan/jajan street food. Karena jujur. Aku lapar banget.
Ceritanya bersambung ya…
English version
When the Heart Says: GO HOME!
It had been a while since I last wrote. I missed it.
I’d also been quiet on social media (Facebook, Instagram, Tiktok, Youtube) , ever since that last update: the clip of mum’s past away.
Before that, my feed was all sunshine: trips to Antalya, York, and London. Happy days travelling with hubby and family. Not long after, the news arrived: mum had been admitted to hospital. She’d fallen.
It wasn’t her first fall. Her balance hasn’t been great these past few months. Mum and dad live together, though they do have someone who helps look after mum. The carer wasn’t around when it happened. Mum was taken to hospital and admitted. I called her straight away.
“How are you, mum? Do you want me to come home?” I asked.
“Yes, come home,” she said softly.
From her voice, she sounded fairly alright, just a bit of pain in her thigh. But for some reason, my heart kept saying, “GO HOME!”
We actually already had tickets booked for September. Meaning: June home, September home again. Time, energy, cost, doubled. And my annual leave would be eaten up. But my heart insisted, “GO HOME!”
The next day, I asked my manager and colleagues, would it be okay if I went home? Would work be alright? We were short‑staffed. Qadarullah, everyone supported me. Approval granted. That night, my husband booked the ticket (as usual).
The next morning, my sister messaged:
“Sis, mum’s already home. If you don’t come, it’s okay. You’re coming in September anyway. She’s fine!”
The hospital results showed a possible fracture. She needed to return on 8 July to a bigger hospital for further treatment, maybe surgery.
Alright then, mum was home.
But I was torn. The next day at work, I asked my manager and colleagues again, could I cancel my leave? I thought about it: leave already approved, colleagues sorted, and in the coming weeks many people would be taking turns going on holiday. Peak season in August.
I asked hubby and daughter, should I cancel? After checking, oh dear. The ticket was non‑refundable and couldn’t be changed. Honestly, this never happens. My husband is usually meticulous, always pays extra for flexible dates. But somehow, not this time.
While I was torn, my heart kept saying: GO HOME!
Everything had to be prepared quickly. I had one week. And every day I was working my main job plus my part‑time job. After work, I bought gifts, the usual ritual before going home.
I asked mum:
“Mah, what do you want from England?”
“Ah, don’t bring anything. Just the money,” she joked, our classic family line.
“Maybe just chocolate,” she added.
Okey dokey!
Then I asked dad:
“What do you want?”
“Ah, nothing.”
“What about a T‑shirt?” I insisted, he rarely asks for anything.
“Just a koko shirt for the mosque.”
“There’s no koko shirt in England!”
“Then buy it here later.”
“T‑shirt then?”
“Alright. But don’t force yourself. You coming home already makes us happy.”
That ended our WhatsApp chat.
After work, I bought loads of chocolate. Then dad messaged:
“Mum wants chocolate in a tin.”
The next day, after work, I bought Lindt, my favourite one, hoping mum would like it. I also bought two boxes of assorted chocolates. And pistachios, mum’s favourite. Big family, big bundle.
At home, I started packing clothes and gifts.
“How’s mum?” I asked my sister.
“She’s uncomfortable sleeping. She needs her body elevated, and pillows on both sides.”
That made me think, how could she be more comfortable?
I had a uniquely shaped pillow, like a V or U, from IKEA years ago. I thought it would help her. I’d even looked for it in IKEA Indonesia last year but couldn’t find it. Online shops only had giant pregnancy pillows the size of half a bed. They looked comfortable too, so I asked my niece to order one. Sorted.
Meanwhile, I still planned to buy mum another pillow from IKEA. After work, I went off. I planned to buy one, but ended up with four.
“How are you going to carry these?” my husband said, baffled.
My principle: buy first, figure out later.
Haha. Truly the most unusual thing I’ve ever brought home. All for mum’s comfort.
Not just that. I brought pillowcases, other pillowcases, cotton sheets, thick white towels, and a soft throw. All for mum. Packing again. Only two pillows fit. Baggage allowance 23 kg, so far only 17 kg. Bulky, but light.
The next day, after work, I went back to Milton Keynes. Bought T‑shirts and other things. Packed again. Suitcase full, around 20 kg.
What else? Oh! In the fridge they are Mature cheddar, butter, eggs, flour, complete. That night, I baked two batches of cheese cookies (kastengel). Finished near midnight. It felt like Eid. My kitchen smelled of cheese at midnight. Mum loves kastengel alot.
All set. Flight tomorrow.
FLYING. BISMILLAH.
Friday flight. My husband took leave. First time flying Cathay Pacific, avoiding Middle East routes. Hong Kong stopover, then Jakarta. Phone on flight mode.
Upon landing, messages flooded in. Mum was back in hospital. This time, shortness of breath. Soekarno‑Hatta to Bandung is about three hours. I arrived after Isya. I’d planned to get a massage, have dinner, go home, rest, shower, then visit mum. But plans changed.
My brother‑in‑law and nephew picked me up and took me straight to the hospital. I couldn’t wait to see mum. One big suitcase, one cabin bag, one tote, all loaded into the car.
The hospital had changed, bigger, more modern, more cafés. But inside, it still felt like years ago, the corridors, the wards, the little gardens.
Entering mum’s room felt different. For nearly 20 years I’ve lived in England. Every time I come home, I see mum cheerful, laughing. But this time felt gloomy. I kissed her hand. We exchanged stories. She asked about my journey, my husband, and the kids.
“Mah, I brought gifts for you, but they’re still in the car,” I said.
“I told you not to bother bringing gifts. Just that one thing…”
“That one thing?” my sister and I laughed.
Meant Money! lol.
“Alright then, “atahna” meant money, I said excitedly.
I pulled out the purple notes.
“What money is this?” mum frowned.
“Play money,” my niece joked.
“That money won’t work here,” my sister said.
That’s Monopoly money,” someone added.
“Throw it away then,” mum said, laughing.
Aish… you could buy a second‑hand motorbike with that. A used one… hahaha.
“How much do you want?” I asked.
She mentioned a number.
“What if we double it?”
She smiled.
What if we double it again?”
She smiled even more.
Alright then, tomorrow. But GMC (money changer) would be closed. So I whispered to my brother‑in‑law.
“Mah, I’ve got gifts for you, but they’re in the car. I’ll get them, okay?”
“Will you come back here?” she asked, not wanting me to leave.
Yes, I rushed earlier because I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Alright then.”
At the car:
“Open the suitcase. In the big one there are two pillows. In the small one, chocolates, kastengel, pistachios.”
“No nuts. Save them for when she’s home. Too much.”
I’d already transferred money and withdrawn cash at the hospital lobby.
We returned to mum’s room.
“Here, mah…”
“Wah…” she fanned the blue notes dramatically.
“Refreshing, mah?” I teased.
“Refreshing…” she said, eyes bright.
These tiny moments — they make everything worth it.
“Rin, put it in my wallet,” mum said.
“Yes, boss!”
“Here’s the chocolate you asked for,” I opened the box.
“Wait, is it allowed?” my sister asked.
“Is it allowed?” mum echoed.
“What exactly is mum’s illness?” I asked.
“Heart issues and a bit of a cough.”
“Ah, never mind. Just don’t tell the doctor,” I said.
We laughed like rebellious teenagers breaking school rules.
The chocolate melted. “This tastes like klepon!” mum said.
We burst out laughing.
Then the kastengel, crispy, cheesy, rich. Of course, Cathedral cheddar, premium butter, and love carried across continents.
I showed her the pillows.
“Pillows?” she said, surprised.
I told her the whole story.
Night grew late. I wanted to stay overnight, but I was exhausted. Two days and two nights of travel. I still had to go home. And honestly. I was starving.
To be continued…




