Wheels and Warmth

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I woke up at 6 AM to the smell of delicious home cooking. Thanks to my mom, who’s still staying with me during my recovery. Honestly, she runs this household like a Michelin-starred restaurant. By the time I dragged myself out of bed, a complete spread was already laid out on the table, ready before I even popped my morning meds. Talk about VIP treatment 😄

Then came reinforcements from Depok: my sister, her husband, and their little one. They didn’t arrive empty-handed. No, they came bearing the holy gifts of fried bakwan and sweet potatoes. You know how some food just doesn’t last more than 15 minutes? Yeah, that was it. Gone. Vanished. Kaput. By the time I blinked twice, only the aroma lingered.

They made themselves completely at home and spent the entire day exploring everything my place has to offer. Swimming pool, indoor and outdoor playgrounds, picnic at the botanic park. You name it, they did it. By evening, they were heading home with what can only be described as loot bags: hand-me-down Skechers (two pairs!), kids’ books, clothes, toiletries, and even amenities. Basically, a family reunion plus a pop-up garage sale (but free!) 

Meanwhile, my husband was off picking up our youngest from her IELTS test, so my eldest volunteered to take me on a scenic ride around the botanic garden. Picture this: her pushing me in a wheelchair for more than 2.5 km while we chatted about everything. At one point, she stopped, grinned, and said, “Mom, let me take a picture of you there for your blog cover.” And just like that, my heart melted. I mean, how many teens voluntarily become your photographer and carer in one go? That moment is tucked safely in my forever-memory box.

On the way back, we detoured for ice cream at the minimarket and, by some stroke of serendipity, bumped into my youngest. Soon, we were back home, the four of us cozied up in the living room watching Demon Hunter (yes, the one with the ridiculously catchy soundtrack that sticks in your head forever). Meanwhile, my mom, sister, brother-in-law, and niece continued their picnic outside with Pop Mie noodles. I swear, this family has mastered the art of joy in the simplest forms.

As the sun set, we regrouped. After Maghrib, we headed to Aeon BSD for dinner at Golden Lamian, courtesy of my daughter's stash of discount vouchers (thank you, generous teacher!). My niece had fallen asleep on the motorbike and refused to wake up, so she and her parents sat this one out. It ended up being just the five of us, slurping noodles, discussing IELTS scores, and planning a road trip for the end of the year. 

By the time we finished dinner, the mall was buzzing, but none of us had the energy nor interest to wander around. My youngest had to get back to the dorm before curfew anyway. I stayed in my trusty wheelchair, being alternately pushed around by my mom and kids. They even put on my socks and shoes for me earlier. I felt like royalty, pampered and cared for in ways that made me both laugh and tear up.

Now, I’m back in bed, meds taken, tucked in by my husband who before turning off the light asked, “Mommy, have you posted your blog yet?” Apparently, he’s my editor-in-chief now 😅

Anne Lamott once wrote, “Joy is the best makeup.” And today, joy was served in heaping portions, garnished with fried bakwan, and seasoned with love.

Don’t wait for the big milestones to feel grateful. Look around. Your joy might be hiding in the steam of hot noodles, the push of a wheelchair, or even in someone asking if you’ve written today.

Now, go call that person you love. Or better yet, share some bakwan with them. Trust me, joy doubles when you share it.

Love,
Nuniek

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