Sunday, 07 September 2025
Today was the first day at home without my mom after my surgery. The house felt a little emptier without her presence in the kitchen, so naturally, I had to take over again. Back to my apron, knives, and pot. Though let’s be honest, “takeover” makes it sound like I’m leading a military operation, while in reality I was just heating the leftover foods she made 😂 Still, there was a strange comfort in being in charge again: tidying up, preparing meals, letting the familiar rhythm of domestic chores settle my heart.
To keep myself company, I turned on one of my favorite podcasts, IMO with Michelle Obama and Craig Robinson. What I love most is hearing Michelle and her brother Craig swap stories. Half sibling banter, half life wisdom. That remind me how family roots quietly shape who we become. And my mind wander... maybe one day, if she ever has plan to visit Jakarta again, her PA will drop me email and say, “Hey Nuniek, Michelle Obama has been silently reading your blog and wants to meet you personally.” A girl can dream, right? 😉
The morning also brought leftover giggles from yesterday’s family games. I kept laughing to myself in the shower remembering how my mom’s drawing me. For reasons still unknown, she decided to portray me as a man. A guy! Can you imagine? I couldn’t stop replaying the absurdity in my head. Like, I mean... look at these drawing. Which one is me, can you guess???
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| Yep, mom's picturing "me" is number 2 from the top left 😠|
After brunch, I received a sweet phone call from my most loyal blog reader, Ollz, who has been following my words faithfully since 2002. That’s over two decades of reading my rambles; truly, commitment goals. We chatted about life, about health, about the reality of nearing half a century (yes, only five more years before I hit that half-century mark. How did that even happen?). But our conversation had to end after thirty minutes, because church was calling.
And yes, drumroll please... I finally made it back to offline service again today! Progress! Our family went to the 2nd service, which always feels like trying to get Coldplay tickets. You have to be online at exactly Thursday 12:00 noon to secure your spot, and the tickets are gone in less than a minute (no kidding!). People used to brag about winning ticket wars for concerts; now, we brag about winning ticket wars for church. Priorities.
The sermon by Ps. Jeffrey Rachmat was timely: one in many messages, he reminded us not to get stuck in the past. The past is already gone, and clinging to it only weighs us down. What matters is the present, this moment, and how we prepare ourselves for the future. Beautiful, simple, yet powerful. Though, I must admit, between the strong message and the painkiller I had swallowed before leaving home, I struggled to stay fully alert. The medicine made me drowsy, and to make matters worse, I had taken it on an empty stomach. Painkiller + no food = pain double combo. Lesson learned.
After service, the hunger was undeniable, so off we went straight to a restaurant for lunch. That’s also where I met up with my DATE friends. We talked for two and a half hours (instead of the usual one and a half) about hospital stories, the importance of insurance, updates on kids and schools, etc. Everyone had a voice in the conversation, no one sat quietly on the sidelines. We opened and closed the gathering with heartfelt blessings, and I even got a surprise birthday cake slice with a candle. On top of that, a gift from Peggy and Randolph: a premium viscose outer from TheBestKaynd. Love it! Thank you all 💖
From there, life didn’t slow down. We dropped my youngest back at her dorm, then returned to the apartment. The plan was to watch something on Netflix, but real life decided otherwise. Property paperwork suddenly demanded attention, and then came the avalanche of packages my youngest had ordered for her upcoming trip to Toraja. My oldest daughter ended up playing impromptu delivery service, hauling box after box. At some point we looked at each other and burst out laughing 😂 It really did feel like the little sister had tricked her into doing all the heavy lifting.
Here’s the thing though: at forty-five, I thought I’d feel old. Like really old. As a teenager, forty-five sounded like “your life is basically done, and you’re one step away from wearing grandma slippers every day.” But living it now? I feel young inside. Youthful even. My body, of course, reminds me daily that I’m not 25 anymore 😅 Hello, stubborn gray hair. But my spirit? Still bubbling with curiosity, joy, and energy.
My friend Ollz put it beautifully the other day: “Our body is the only house we’ll ever truly live in. Treat it well, repair it daily, as an act of gratitude.” That resonated deeply. It’s like what Paul wrote in the Bible, that our body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. This body, flawed as it is, is the sacred vessel we’ve been entrusted with until the end of our days. How could I not treat it with love?
Michelle Obama also wrote in The Light We Carry: “If you’re not feeling whole, it’s hard to be strong.” That hits home, especially now. Healing after surgery, showing up for family, managing all the little responsibilities that keep piling up... It all circles back to this one truth: I have to care for myself, not as an afterthought, but as a priority.
So here I am, embracing forty-five, aches and all, laughter and all, responsibilities and all. Aging gracefully doesn’t mean chasing perfection. It’s about allowing ourselves to be human, to rest when we need, to laugh when it gets too much, and to trust that we are enough in this very moment.
Love your body today. Not after you lose ten pounds, not after you buy that expensive serum, not when you hit a certain milestone. Today. Because this is the only body that will walk with you until your last breath. Treat it kindly, speak to it gently, repair it faithfully.
After all, our spirit can only dance if our body gives it the stage.