ABC mini challenge · galau · journal

K untuk Kangen

Ketika lampu di balkon padam, siluet daun-daun pohon jambu seperti hidup karena cahaya bulan. Sudah lewat jam satu dini hari dan radio yang lupa dimatikan menyiarkan noise yang mungkin berpola. Aku tenggelam dibalik selimut mirip handuk berwarna toska. Tidur. Dibentengi bantal yang terlalu banyak dan buku, yang kubaca sebelum ketiduran, jatuh ke samping tempat tidur, ke atas karpet abu-abu.

Kemudian pagi akan merambat lembut lewat jendela besar yang menghadap ke barat. Siaran radio kembali jadi saksofon dan ibu sudah bergerak di dapur. Aku akan bangun, menyelipkan dua kaki yang dingin ke slipper singa, mematikan radio, membuka tirai dan jendela, lalu menyeret langkah menuruni tangga kayu yang berderit-derit. Piyama biru-ku gambar kelinci. Di dapur kering aku menyeduh secangkir kopi instan lalu membawanya ke depan televisi di ruang tengah. Aroma kopi bercampur nasi goreng, atau apa saja menu sarapan hari itu, selalu membuatku merasa itu adalah awal dari hari yang baik. Sofa yang sudah belel, udara dingin yang menyusup dari koridor menuju garasi, bersama justru menciptakan hangat.

Rasanya seperti kemarin, padahal sudah empat tahun kutinggalkan rumah.

Tetap saja, rasanya akan selalu seperti kemarin dan hangat sampai ke hati.

2 thoughts on “K untuk Kangen

  1. I wish I had a memory of home just like you so beautifully describe in the post. I’ve never felt that way about my childhood home. My whole life is like a blur of so many places. I’ve never had a room that I could so comfortably rest in and couldn’t wait to go back to at the end of the day. I had my own room alright but never felt like a part of it. After high school I left home for university and after that for a job thousands of kilos from home and then overseas and now I that I live in the same city with my parents, I have a new home with my husband. I visit my parents a few times every month, and always has this odd feeling that I never really miss home. I love being there but that’s it, I spend a few hours then head back. I rarely stay for the nite. I guess I’m jealous of your beautiful memory of home.

    1. thanks for swinging by, Bella🙂
      guess everyone has their own choice of memories. even the most bitter one can turn sweet when one wants to. just a change of view, i believe. you are happy now, aren’t you? and that’s what matters more.
      take care.

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