"This house is big, but it feels incredibly lonely. I used to think we'd always be together with the children. I never imagined they'd have life choices of their own."
The room felt cold, not because of the chilly air that night, but because their hearts had grown so terribly lonely.
"We only ever thought they'd stay little forever and remain close to us, when in reality, they keep growing up and becoming adults, with life choices of their own."
"But to me, they're still children. Even though Whira has a child of her own now, in my eyes, she's still little."
They tried to keep smiling, hiding all the longing concealed behind the great distance between them.
The room was silent, with only the crickets battling the quiet of the night.
The pig's squeals could still be heard clearly as it struggled to knock down the cassava plant in the yard.
There were no more jokes and laughter that ended in tears, no more fighting over mie goreng that hadn't been divided equally. No more arguing over the remote to watch each person's favorite movie. Only loneliness remained, waiting for its chance to return.
One day, one week, one year—or who knew how long fate would keep playing with them. If this was so painful, why did it have to happen?
Who knew? Everything just felt so terribly difficult.
"Are we really going to spend our old age alone in this house, lonely and only able to hear their stories?"
Her lips were forced into a smile as she tried to swallow the bitterness that ran painfully deep.
"Who knows? Hopefully they'll come home. I miss them so much, too."
The crickets' growing chorus couldn't fill the nights that grew lonelier with every passing day.
Ding... Ding...
Their phone rang. Someone was calling them on video.
"Whira's calling," she said, showing the phone screen displaying Whira's name.
The sadness on her face suddenly transformed into pure joy.
They immediately left the bedroom and went to the brighter living room.
The moment they answered, Keysa's face appeared, making both of them smile at once.
"Keysa, Grandma's little granddaughter, what are you doing?" Tina asked her seven-month-old granddaughter.
They talked for nearly an hour, filling the lonely room for a little while.
"That's enough for now, Mom. I need to put Keysa to sleep."
"Okay."
The video call ended, and Tina smiled bitterly again. She could feel the loneliness returning.
"When will we be able to get together again? I miss them so much, especially Keysa. She's getting smarter every day."
"Their time to come home will come eventually. We just have to be patient for now."
Meanwhile, at her rental place, Whira immediately wiped away her tears.
For some reason, she always felt sad whenever she saw her parents' faces.
She always used putting Keysa to sleep as an excuse whenever she wanted to end a call with her mother.
'When will I be able to come home? I miss them so much.'
She wiped away the tears that had almost fallen onto her child's face.
She hadn't returned to her hometown in three years because of their dire financial situation.
"What's wrong, honey?" Amri, her husband, asked.
"I want to go home, honey. It's been so long since I last went back."
"What would we go home with? We don't have the money to make the trip. Besides, Keysa's still little. There's no way we can take her that far."
"We could go home if our savings weren't constantly being drained, but if this keeps up, I won't be able to return to my hometown even by the end of the world. You have it easy—you get to see your family every day."