Chapter 12.1 The First Mistake
At Halimah's House
"Assalamu'alaikum," Annisa greeted softly.
"Wa'alaikumsalam," responded a few people gathered in front of the house.
Annisa took a step closer. "Excuse me, sir, ma'am. May I ask if Mr. Syarif is home?" she inquired politely.
One of them replied, "Oh, Kakek Syarif is at the cemetery, ma'am."
("Kakek" means "Grandfather" and "Nenek" Means "Grandmother" in Indonesian and is commonly used as a respectful title for elderly men and Women. In many Indonesian cultures, the term is not only used for one's biological grandfather but also as a way to address older men with respect, especially in rural communities. It reflects both familial affection and social courtesy.)
Annisa nodded. "At the cemetery, I see. Alright then, we'll go there. Thank you very much."
After exchanging farewells, they set off toward the cemetery.
At the Cemetery
A few moments later, they arrived at the quiet burial ground. From a distance, they spotted an elderly man with a frail frame about to leave. He carried an old, worn-out backpack slung tightly over his back, as if it held something deeply precious.
Seeing him, Annisa quickly stepped forward and greeted him, "Assalamu'alaikum, Kakek Syarif."
The old man slowly turned, then gave a faint smile. "Wa'alaikumsalam," he replied with a weary voice. "What brings you here, ma'am?"
"Forgive me, Kakek. We'd like to talk for a bit, if you don't mind. Could we sit at the cemetery's pavilion?" Annisa asked respectfully.
"Oh, of course. Let's go there," Kakek Syarif said, nodding before walking toward the pavilion, still holding onto his backpack strap tightly.
The Cemetery Pavilion
They sat in a simple wooden pavilion, its aging roof creaking slightly as the wind blew. The atmosphere was still, with only the soft rustling of leaves breaking the silence.
Even before the conversation began, Annisa's eyes had already welled up with tears. Dian noticed and offered a small smile.
"Whoa, Bu, you're already crying before we even start," Dian teased gently, trying to lighten the mood.
Annisa gave a weak smile and quickly wiped the corner of her eyes with her scarf. "I'm sorry, dear. I just… got caught up in the moment," she whispered.
Dian nodded, then turned her attention to Kakek Syarif. "Kakek, we would love to hear your story. Could you start by telling us your name and how your journey with Nenek Halimah began?" she asked softly.
Kakek Syarif took a deep breath before beginning. "My name is Syarif. I was born on the fifth day of the fifth month in the year 1945. Halimah was my childhood friend. We grew up together, always playing side by side.
The people in our village used to joke, 'Ah, when you two grow up, you're destined to be together,' or 'That's your soulmate, don't let her go!' It was as if they could already see our future," he said with a faint smile, reminiscing about his youth.
"As we got older, we realized our bond was more than just friendship. And then, we discovered something unusual—we were born on the exact same date, month, and year. It felt like fate had intertwined our destinies. So, I proposed to Halimah, and both our families gave their blessings."
But then, Kakek Syarif's expression darkened. His gaze dropped, as if burdened by a weight too heavy to bear. "Because of financial difficulties, Halimah and I had a discussion. We agreed that I would go to a neighboring country to work and save money before we got married."
He paused briefly, swallowing hard before letting out a deep sigh. "But that was my first and biggest mistake," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. Tears started to form in his weary eyes.
Dian swallowed hard. The atmosphere in the pavilion grew heavier.
"Why didn't I just marry her first, even if only in a simple religious ceremony?" he continued, his voice trembling. "At least, in the eyes of God, she would have already been my wife before I left. If I had done that, maybe we wouldn't have needed that wedding ceremony—the one that marked the beginning of all my regrets."
Silence.
Dian and Annisa sat in stunned quiet, absorbing the weight of his confession.
"I left too hastily, without fully considering the consequences," Kakek Syarif continued. "I thought everything would be fine. I truly believed that time would soon bring us back together."
But fate had other plans.
Kakek Syarif exhaled deeply, his hands trembling as he wiped away the tears that now trailed down his wrinkled face. He tried to hold them back, but he couldn't.
Annisa could no longer contain her emotions either. Tears streamed down her face, her lips quivering as she tried to suppress a sob.
Dian turned her face away, avoiding direct eye contact, yet her own eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Even Ismail, who had been silently listening all this time, now lowered his head. His hands clenched into fists on his lap, and his eyes turned red.
A deep silence enveloped them.
The wind blew gently, brushing against their tear-streaked faces—as if the world itself mourned along with them.
Chapter 12.2 The Second Regret
After the atmosphere had somewhat settled, Dian attempted to continue the interview. But it wasn't long before Kakek Syarif's story once again stirred deep emotions within her.
"At first, everything went smoothly in Malaysia. Every month, I would send my earnings to Halimah. It was all for the preparations for our wedding," Grandpa Syarif began, his voice soft and weary.
For two years, they maintained their relationship well. There were no obstacles, and their wedding plans were nearing realization. However, one day, Kakek Syarif heard about a job opportunity in Dubai that offered significantly higher wages.
"Without much thought, I decided to take the job," he continued.
His voice grew weaker, as if weighed down by an unbearable burden. "That was my second mistake… and the most fatal one. I didn't tell Halimah. I wanted to surprise her, thinking that if I worked there for just a year, everything would be more than enough. Even if I had returned earlier with just my earnings from Malaysia, it should have sufficed…"
But reality had other plans.
"I kept chasing… chasing more… as if I was never satisfied."
His eyes shimmered with tears, his voice trembling.
"But then, tragedy struck. I had a workplace accident. By the time I regained consciousness, I was already an old man… I had become like this…"
His hands clenched into fists on his lap, trembling as he struggled to contain the emotions he had suppressed for decades.
"I can't even begin to imagine… what it must have been like to live all those years without a single word from me, relying solely on the strength of her heart to keep waiting. How did Halimah endure it?"
Kakek Syarif swallowed hard before continuing, his voice now barely above a whisper.
"For more than 50 years… Halimah lived in waiting."
Those words lingered in the air, leaving behind an unbearable silence.
"How could I be so cruel to her?"
Dian lowered her gaze, her body beginning to tremble. She couldn't fathom the immense pain Halimah had endured.
"Every time someone proposed to her, Halimah refused. Year after year passed… yet she continued to wait. Her family grew to resent her for rejecting suitors time and time again. But she remained steadfast. She truly believed that one day, I would return…"
Kakek Syarif paused. His breaths became shallow as he tried to suppress his sobs.
"Yes… I did come back…"
His voice broke completely.
"But in this state…"
His frail hands trembled uncontrollably. And finally, after all those years of holding back, his tears fell.
He cried—not just any cry—but the kind that carried the weight of decades of regret, grief, and lost time.
Dian could no longer hold herself together. Her hands went limp, and the recorder slipped from her grasp, falling onto the floor. She was completely overwhelmed, powerless against the painful reality of the story she had just heard.
Pak Ismail and Bu Annisa, who had been silently listening with teary eyes, immediately reached out and embraced Kakek Syarif tightly.
No words were spoken.
Only tears flowed freely, blending together—tears of sorrow, of regret, of a love that had endured yet remained unfulfilled.
Uncountable were the tears shed that night…
Tears born from a love story so heartbreakingly painful…
Tears that left behind wounds and regrets that could never be healed.