I once knew what it felt like to truly have a home.... a place filled with warmth, quiet conversations, shared meals, and a sense of family love that felt safe and real. It is a memory I will never forget, one that settled deep into my core when I was still a teenager and has stayed with me until now, as I approach my forties.
Papa and Mama were always there to welcome me with open hearts. They celebrated my birthdays in the simplest ways, yet those moments felt complete. They gave me whatever they could within their means, and in doing so, they gave me something far greater than material things: a sense of being seen, accepted, and loved.
They are no longer beside me and now live only in my memories. They were not my biological parents, yet the warmth and care they gave me surpassed anything I ever felt from my own. Their home in Malang became my refuge...a place where I could escape the harshness of life in Surabaya, a place that offered calm, meaning, and a quiet sense of belonging.
I was never able to give anything in return. I did not even have the chance to repay their kindness. Now, all I can do is carry them in my prayers, whispering their names in every moment of surrender.
I miss you both, Papa D and Mama W. 🤍
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