The rumble of a car engine gradually slowing down outside the house's front gate broke the morning silence. Ayusari quickly set down the cup of hot tea she'd just brewed on the wooden kitchen table. With hurried but careful steps, she made her way to the front door. The wooden door creaked softly as she opened it, revealing an elderly woman standing with the support of a wooden cane, accompanied by a man in a driver's uniform.
"Mom..." Ayusari called softly. She immediately approached, took the small cloth bag from her mother's grasp, then respectfully kissed the back of the old woman's hand. The back of that hand felt increasingly cold, and her skin had grown more wrinkled—a physical sign that could not be denied of the passage of age that had brought her to seventy-six.
"Oh, Ayu..." Mom Tita gave a faint smile. Her dimming eyes swept over the yard, where several bougainvillea plants grew in pots. "I'm home. Rara was still busy in the kitchen, so I had Rara's driver bring me here."
"Why didn't you wait for me to pick you up this afternoon, Mom? Rara could've called me first," Ayusari said gently as she guided her mother's slow steps across the threshold.
"I didn't want to trouble you, Ayu. You're busy with work, and taking care of the girls too," Mom Tita replied. Her steps came to a stop in the living room. Her gaze wandered around the room, taking in the family photographs displayed on the walls. Suddenly, her expression turned confused. The deeply lined forehead furrowed even further.
"Ayu... where's Dad? When I got out of the car, why wasn't he there to greet me? He usually waters the plants on the porch around this time," Mom Tita asked innocently, without the slightest hesitation.
Ayusari's chest tightened. A familiar pain pressed into her solar plexus. That sentence—the same question that always appeared whenever her mother's memory wandered back into the past. Because of Mom Tita's vascular dementia, her memory often skipped through time, erasing the painful reality that her late husband had passed away five years ago.
Ayusari drew a deep breath, holding back the tremor in her voice. She looked into her mother's eyes with warmth, unwilling to contradict her harshly and risk triggering confusion or an epileptic seizure.
"Dad's resting inside, Mom. He was tired last night," Ayusari replied gently, choosing to align with her mother's world of memories so she would feel at peace. "Come on, sit on the couch first. I've made your favorite sweet hot tea."
Mom Tita nodded slowly, as though accepting the explanation. "Oh... right. Poor Dad. Let him rest for now."
As Ayusari helped her mother sit down, the door to the back bedroom opened. Putri stepped out in her neat college uniform, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Seeing her grandmother in the living room, the eighteen-year-old girl's face immediately lit up.
"Grandma's here!" Putri approached, knelt beside the couch, then kissed Mom Tita's hand and lovingly rubbed her shoulder.
"Putri... Grandma's beautiful granddaughter. Are you heading to school?" Mom Tita asked, stroking Putri's long hair.
"I'm heading to college, Grandma," Putri corrected her with a sweet smile. She was already very used to the state of her grandmother's memory.
The sound of quick footsteps came from the bathroom. Yasa emerged with her hair still somewhat tousled and only one sock on. The sixteen-year-old girl looked rushed. "Mom! Where's Yasa's other white sock? I'm already late!"
"Yasa, lower your voice. Grandma just got here—don't yell," Ayusari said calmly as she handed her mother the cup of hot tea. "Your sock is in the laundry fold near the kitchen. Look properly."
Yasa pouted for a moment, but when she caught sight of her grandmother, her irritation melted away. She scampered over and hugged Mom Tita from the side. "Grandma! Where's the souvenir from Aunt Rara's house?"
"Hey, Yasa. Grandma just got here. Don't ask for souvenirs right away," Putri cut in, looking at her younger sister.
"Oh, come on, Sis! I was just asking," Yasa shot back, unwilling to lose.
Ayusari could only shake her head at the antics of her two daughters. In the middle of the morning bustle, the phone in her pants pocket vibrated. The screen displayed the name "Rara." Ayusari swiped the green button and walked a little farther away toward the kitchen.
"Hi, Ra?"
"Sis Ayu! Has Mom gotten there yet? I'm so sorry. I felt really dizzy and nauseous this morning, and then Mom insisted on going home this morning with the driver. I wanted to call you, but I was afraid you might be busy getting the girls ready," Rara said guiltily from the other end of the line.
"It's okay, Ra. Mom got here safely. She's having tea in the living room with Putri and Yasa," Ayusari replied. "How are you? Nauseous again? Have you seen a doctor?"
Rara sighed softly over the phone. "Not yet, Sis. I think it's just a minor bug. The pregnancy test is still negative... Sometimes I feel jealous of you, Sis Ayu. Even though you're a single mom, you already have Putri and Yasa, and they're both so grown up. Budi and I have been married for four years, and we still haven't been blessed with a child..."
Ayusari fell silent for a moment. Her sister's words brushed against a vulnerable place in her heart. Life always gave different portions to different people. Rara and her husband were struggling to have a child, Wira, the youngest, was anxiously awaiting the birth of his first child, while she... had to swallow the bitterness of a divorce several years ago and struggle alone to raise two teenage daughters while caring for their increasingly elderly mother.
"Everything happens in its own time, Ra. The important thing is to take care of your health first and don't stress," Ayusari said sincerely, trying to comfort her. "I'll call you again tonight if I get the chance, okay? The girls are about to leave."
"Okay, Sis Ayu. Thanks. And I'm sorry if Mom caused you any trouble."
"She's our mother, Ra. No one's being troubled."
After ending the call, Ayusari returned to the living room. Putri and Yasa were already waiting near the front door. Her two daughters said goodbye, taking turns kissing her hand and Mom Tita's.
"Mom, I'm heading out. I'll come straight home this afternoon. I don't have any organization activities," Putri said.
"I'm leaving too, Mom! Grandma, I'm off to school!" Yasa called, waving before disappearing behind the gate with her older sister.
The house suddenly fell quiet again. Only the ticking of the wall clock and Mom Tita's soft sighs remained as she sipped her tea. Ayusari sat beside her mother, gently stroking the aging fingers that had sacrificed so much for her during her childhood.
Behind her status as a single mom, which people often looked down on, and the burden of caring for a mother whose physical and mental health was steadily declining, Ayusari knew the road ahead would never be easy. Yet when she saw her mother's smile and the spirit of her two daughters, she swept away her weariness. In this small house, all her hope and struggles would continue.