Don't You See?

Dear Diary,

I was with my mom and dad and my children off course, having dinner by the beach. The kids have their picks tonite and they have chosen the beach for its nice soto ayam.

We were talking and updating each other as I haven't seen my parents nor do I have called them throughout this whole week, when suddenly the guy who was said to have his wife and baby killed in some tragedy, came and took the table behind us. As usual, like whenever I saw him by the road when I was driving, he was carrying the usual baby craddle and some other stuffs which look like some shabby and dirty baby soft toys or babywear. He came silently to the table, put down his "baby" slowly on the sandy beach. This time, he had a small, red radio transistor with him, which he put on the table together with some radio casseates. I tried my very best to catch the music he was listening to, and in between the sounds of the crashing waves, I noticed that it was some local nasyid. While sitting, he would sway his palms around, an act which I later understood as an effort by him to keep mosquitoes and bugs away from his "baby". At times, he will bury his face into some cloth or something.

Though there are, always, tingles of mixed feelings in me, I am not sad or anything. Because I have seen him numerous times throughout my daily routine to and from office over the past almost 5 years. I have seen him, very early in the morning, sitting on the floor at the porch of some chinese grocery shop or restaurants which were still closed, or bus stops, sitting crosslegs on the floor while his hand rocking a baby cradle he must have hung there earlier, or pushing baby tram or sometimes, some hypermarket trolleys with somewhat a thing shaped like a "baby" wrapped with blankets in there. This is not the first time I see him.

What makes me want to write about him in here though, is the fact that I see my mom cried. She cried. And my mom is really not a person who will normally cry over things. You don't get to see her cry very often. Especially not in the public. She's always the composed, prim and proper one. That man's act must have really touched her heart. Through her silent tears, I suddenly thought, God must have created this man to show those who may have seen, about so many things. What they are, I think will be up to the beholders to interprete. Mom must have seen those things too. I, on the other hand, do not see enough. As usual, I am very blurry, even when it comes to life. I don't really see things ...