AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN

"Ibu..," that's what I call her. When I was young the only thing I knew were she cooked for me, she was angry every time I went home dirty, she taught me how to read words, and she made me feel comfort when she was around me. That's why I always cried every time she left me while she went to somewhere out of the town.

Actually I don't know exactly her appearance now because I haven't met her for almost three months. But, the exact thing is she doesn't look like me at all. So, every time I walk beside her people won't think that I am her daughter. They always and always ask,"Is she your daughter??" Hiks... But don't worry. I look like my father. So you don't need to doubt about where I belong. She is taller than me and she had white skin. Aha!! Start get the difference between us?? She has curly, pretty long, black hair. She is not fat and she is not thin (anymore). She was really thin when she was young. I have her teen photo. It was totally different with my shape. I know that... I've told you that my physhical appearance just like my father.

Even though we are different from what your eyes can see, but most of our characteristics are same. We are very sensitive, have low confidence but high panic, think and think and think again before make even unimportant decision, and we also really like to read book and write. And also she likes rock music just like me. When she pregnant me, beside read books, she heard God Bless, Ikang Fauzi, The Beatles, and other rock band rather than heard Mozard or something. When I still lived home with her she also heard my favorite punk rock bands like Green Day, Blink 182, etc. Don't worry... My mom doesn't wear rocker stuff like what you could imagine. She wears what mother wears. Hehe...

Many things I could learn from her since I was baby, maybe even since I was pregnant. She sacrifices for family, for me and my brother. She is a teacher of Elementary School and she is a great mother also. She is very emphatic but also full of love. She wakes up early and goes to sleep lately. I am very sad every time I saw her tired. Sometimes I helped her to cook, correct her students' tests, but her favorite help from me is my massage. She said I am a good massager. But I don't think I will open massage business. Hehe... I prefer to be a teacher or writer or rocker or lecturer, but not massager. She would make me a glass of milk or juice if she knew I would have tests next day. I often got stress when test days come, but her care always made me feel better. I always felt I was home when I was home. She is a panic person. She couldn't do anything except standing in front of the door and calling me when I went home late.

Now, her daugther isn't home. She is far from her and trying to fight with this cruel world. I know she actually worries about me, but she fights with her feeling to let me be independent, adult, and better person.