Moral Stories for Adults - The Man

Moral Stories for Adults

The Man

The Man

The man always does that, his work staying up late and only repairing trashy goods that are not his own. Just hearing his voice has made many people uneasy somehow, whose clear voice is quite loud to hear from inside the house.

"it's already night, let's go inside, is not good with the neighbors," my mother said.

My house is on the side of the alley, not too wide. In our house, there is no place to store all my father's belongings, precisely his friend's belongings.

My mother was often angry with my father for his actions that often make him not sleep. Not infrequently also in the morning sounded chatter that is less pleasant to be heard by children like me.

But what can I do, that's my father's habit.

He repaired his friends' motorbikes. Not just one or two, but there are 3 to five motorbikes scattered in front of our house.

And why did I say it was junk, because in a few days the motorbike would definitely come to our house back and begging to be repaired. I do not really understand and pay attention, just every day I see the motorbike, at least I know which ones have come and which ones have not.

Often the motorcycle that my father fixes is the same motor, and that's all. I also memorized, I know he is the owner of a battered motorcycle.

His bad habits that are often done that make his body weak. He was sick a lot. Coughing that does not stop in one or two weeks, breathing is a bit of gasping, asthma or not, maybe he was so tired.

To support her child, my mother helps the family economy by selling snacks every day. My father himself is only a motorcycle taxi and small farmers. So after he stayed up late or only slept for 1-2 hours, then he went to the fields and took care of his fields.

Unfortunately, there are no customers who want to ride my father's motorcycle. Indeed, I confess and so do mothers, that my father's motorcycle is not fit for anyone to board. It might be ugly and damaged because it was made to bring the boss's dried coconut to be delivered to the customers.

Yes, my father delivered old coconuts. That is only if coconut comes, usually every 3 days. From there my father really got a wage to support the family.

Then what about the trashy goods that he always does every night, which he struggles to defend not to sleep just to repair these items?

If you know, everything he did for his friend's motorcycle was "NOT PAID".

When I heard that from my mother, I was annoyed, angry, upset, whatever. Why did he try to be willing to defend and repair his friend's beat-up motorbike which in the end did not get anything?

Why did he give his health only for people who didn't think about him. Once I found he really sick. His body was very weak, his cough was not tones and rhythm. He could only lay limp for a period of several days.

For a moment I thought, maybe he better be given pain, so that he can rest. Maybe also from the pain, he realized, if what he did was not good for his health. After all, what he did does not get anything.

But my mind was wrong, what had happened to him did not make him change at all. When he is a little fit, just a little, he does that activity again and again.

Until when will he do that? I am annoyed with his actions, I do not hate, only if I see one of my loved ones like that, then what should I do? I'm also confused, my mother can't even advise him.

One morning the whole house was noisy with the rumors of my mother and father, I heard their loud words in mutually rising voices,

"What will happen to our child, if you keep doing this, with barely earn and don't look for another job. why you still taking care of motorbikes for people who don't pay you. While our child has entered the 3rd grade of high school, after this, we need a lot of funds for her test, "my mother said smoothly.

"Oh well, if she can't afford school, she doesn't need to go to school," he said loudly.

My mother's face grew contorted.

"Don't be like that, you should be able to find another job. Abandon those useless motors. its just sometimes, only sometimes you will get only $1, that's all if someone gives it, "my mother said rising slightly.

"What do you want me to do, I can only work like this."

"it's not like that, you torture yourself every night."

"Never mind, if you want lya to school tell her to find their own money"

Hearing those words my heart immediately hurts,

it's so piercing, what happens if I don't go to school? The words came out of his mouth. Honestly, I really am not familiar with my father. Chat? it's not in my family's dictionary, rather I'm with my father.

Just met on the road we never greeted each other, attention to me almost never existed. Once when my mother went to the market and when I had a toothache, he once said:

"Toothache, just give the pills there buy at the shop next door"

Those words have never been forgotten in my life. His attention might be too expensive for his children. I do not know why. It may be trivial, but for me, it's very valuable. very very valuable

Until one day, he went to the fields, and I went to school.

In the afternoon he came home, and so did I. But I was an hour earlier than him. my mother and father come at five in the afternoon. Indeed, if my mother had sold fried foods and her body could still move, she would join my father in the fields and help him.

That afternoon there was not the slightest bad news. My father was well that day as well as my mother.

In the evening, I returned from my friend's house a little late, precisely at 11 pm, I found my father was asleep. I really don't know.

then I was still awake and watching TV, looking for sleep with a lie down on the front bed of the family room.

I saw my father take water after sleeping. After that I did not know how I was, I was asleep.

Around 1 that night, I felt uneasy with my sleep. I'm half awake. Then I heard my mother calling my father in his room.

I heard it for a long time, maybe about 15 minutes. And at that moment my mother came to me and woke me up and said:

"Lya... Your father has left .." (your father is not there)

I, who had been conscious since before, immediately woke up. Seeing my mother's confused face and trying to digest.

I immediately went to my father who was lying in the room.

At a glance, I don't know what to do either. I've never seen death, I'm afraid. Seeing my father's face with his eyes open and his mouth open. I hold his feet, it's cold, it's so cold. very cold. I put my hand on his chest, trying to feel his heartbeat. But there was not a single beat. 

my father had died.

In my mind, I was confused, what should I do, he was gone. Do I have to be happy? maybe then there would be no more scolding in the morning if he was not there. I must be proud, so that no more neighbors will be interrupted every night. After all, we never speak to each other.

But he is my father, my ONLY father.

At that moment I was moved to tears. My mother also began to growl, my sister-in-law also woke up and cried very loudly, when she found out my father was not there.

I don't have a cellphone, I can't contact the other family to notify this incident. There is my sister who lives in a different house in the middle of the village, it takes time to go there.

I went to my sister's house and told her about my father's death. Then my sister tells all the family who is outside the city.

Is this how it feels to lose a father?

It hurts, but in his life, it also doesn't make me happy at all. This taste is mixed.

My mother was the hardest hit by this incident. A mother who is very tough and patient is powerless when faced with death.

3 days 3 nights my mother keeps crying. She still did not accept, there was no illness that infected my father. In that morning also still working in the garden, that night he also still eating. Is that how fast death approaches?

Day after day passed. We remember all the services that were done by my father when he was still alive. All families also gathered at our house.

My mother understood everything behind what my father did, she said:

"Your father is very noble, he is willing to fix his friend's broken motorcycle is not a useless thing. He has good principles. Once he said before his death, I asked why constantly doing the work that is not paid for. He said: ‘If the motorcycle were not immediately repaired, then they could not find the money. While they need money to eat. And they only work as motorcycle drivers' "

From there I just understood, truly sincere deeds he did, He knows our family from the group who poor and needy, but he saw his friend more in need than him, so willing to sacrifice himself for others.

He also knew that if the owners of the motorcycle would not be able to pay the money so that it would not be repaired in the shop, for that reason my father had never give a bill for them.

maybe it was so bad for that those who kept coming and never gave money, one of them gave my father $1.

Imagine, if only $1 with working overtime stay up late?

I was surprised mixed with admiration, everything my mother told me was real. Behind his silent figure, apparently, he is actually so kind. His death was also not complicated.

There were also quite a lot of pilgrims, to the point that my friend asked "Is your father a figure in the village?" My father is just an ordinary person. Unknown and rarely known by many people.

Once whispered from my mother, a sincerity produces fruit that can never be felt again by others. That is my father.

ohh dad, if we could talk a little, I'd love to ask how are you today? Are you well? have you had breakfast this morning? But now the time has separated us.

ohh dad, maybe your services will never be forgotten, I can only say thank you for raising me up like this, I can only thank you. See you, daddy. My prayers are always with you. I will try to be a good child, I will take care of mother always ..

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