People often tell me

To cherish each moment

For every little item

Every possession

Holds a treasure inside

“Anak! Come down here!”

A mother calls for her daughter

The daughter

Panicked

And rushes to find her mom immediately

Worrying if something is wrong

Or if something happened to her

The mother

Sitting on the living room floor

Holding a piece of paper

Between her gentle, warm hands

“Look at what your aunt sent us”

It was a photograph, of an old postcard from Germany

Typed up from a typewriter, covered in German stamps

Mailed from Freiburg

Indicating my mother’s name

“I want you to read it”

The mother urged

gently

Stroking her daughter’s hair

The daughter picked up the photograph and deciphered the postcard

Lia!

How is your little sister Kiki?

She keeps crying doesn’t she?

How about Robby, Reza, and Billy?

Study hard in school yeah

Later, Aba is going to bring all of you guys to Makkah

If God wills your grandmother and I are going to Jeddah

And tomorrow morning we are going to Saudi Arabia

In the meantime

We are planning to go back to Palembang in December

Take care

And we love you all so, so much!

Aba

I looked at my mother

Who had tears filling up her honey like eyes

I wrapped my arms around her

She felt warm

And I felt safe to be in her arms

Hearing her heartbeat

Living in a strange land

Raised by a family of immigrants

One begins to realize how

Thankful that the love is still around and with us

When we are miles away from home

And how a single postcard

Can hold such a deep memory

And remind one

About a loved one

In a past generation