ONE LOVE, TWO CONTINENTS
Final Lamentations

 Syahrel ran around a little, holding back tears that almost soaked his petals. Jama’ so faithfully followed right behind Syahrel, the atmosphere began to feel tense, some relatives of the victims of the collision heard crying hysterically, some were busy taking care of the administration of the retrieval of the body.

Some ambulance officers stand by behind the wheel, always ready to accept the task. There were also several journalists seen covering around the mortuary. Some bodies were no longer identified due to severe burns.

 “Sus, the body of the victim of toll road yesterday which?” Ask Syahrel to the guard sisters.

“This is the body Sir.”

His body was already unrecognizable, one hundred percent charred in flames. The cry of Shahrel broke and rested on the frozen body. Right next to her, the little girl fell victim and is now lying in the final bed. The little girl's condition looked intact, there were no burns in the slightest.

A small piece of paper tied to the tip of the toe of the thumb revealed the information of the victim's data, which turned out to be named Redita Putri (Dita). Syahrel again asked the other mortuary attendant.

“Mas, Andita Sirait's name is on the list of victims?”The officer traced the victim's name list with his index finger on a piece of paper he was referring to.

“Oh, the name Andita Sirait entered in the ICU.” room

Syahrel ran back and almost collided with the nurse who was guiding the patient in a wheelchair.

”Ma, sorry..”.

Right behind the glass of the ICU chamber, Dita's body drooped helplessly, the electrocardiograph so closely following her heartbeat. This time Syahrel was downcast and helpless to see the situation Dita. Her beautiful face now looked grim withstanding the pain. Dita's beautiful lips were now no longer able to speak and spoiled like when Syahrel knew him.

Syahrel asks to meet Dita one last time. Given that some officers knew who Syahrel was, he was finally allowed to enter the ICU. Not long Dita looks rosy and able to move the eyelids and fingers.

Dita was still able to say a word, even had a smile. Suddenly appeared in front of him a beautiful girl wearing a white uniform, wrapped in a headscarf that doctors used to wear.

“Zahra?!”

“Iya Ka, I'm on duty here. I took care of Dita.”

“Rel, sign my son. Raise him up and think of him as your own son" the voice of Dita stammered.

Dita's hand held the fingers of Shahrel and Zahra together on her stomach, as the sign Dita wanted them to unite and Zahra to take her place. The face of Zahra, the daughter of the late Haji Arsyad was bowed in shame.

Whether to answer what, the little girl had already left her mama, Zahra also knew the real situation. The beautiful doctor's eyes gave a signal to just let it go for the sake of his condition.

“I-iya Dit, I'll raise him.”

“Rel, I love you…,"

Not yet complete said, the electrocardiograph shows a flat line, a signal of cardiac arrest or cessation of the heartbeat. Zahra could not do anything considering that his condition was already in a critical state and that momentary rumination was common as a sign that God provided an opportunity or time lag for the probate candidate.

Lost all the hope that he had saved, the love that was always guarded and anticipated his presence. Now the beautiful face was covered in a thin white blanket and was stretched out in the last bed. No more smiles behind the rain that night, no more laughter that accompanies the tiredness of Syahrel peddling newspapers first.

Now the last greetings for him, may you have peace in his embrace of love, at the same time, the vibrate mobile phone Syahrel feels marked there is a phone coming in.

Odd number listed on LCD display, code 01016966.

“I hope news from Mommy.”

“Iya ma'am, this is Syahrel.”

Apparently Hajjah Zahrotul Hayati reported the condition of Mother who had just entered King Fahd hospital in Jeddah city and in the process of intensive treatment. Syahrel is expected to calm down and pray for the mother's healing so that she can continue her pilgrimage.

“Mother is just soy sauce," said a temporary explanation from Ms. Hajjah Zahrotul Hayati as the coordinator of worship. Shahrel also rushed to uphold the prayer of the sunah two rokaat, hoping that the miracle came while praying;

“Oh the owner of my weak body and my fragile skin. The backrest for those who no longer know rests on the burden of his life, a lover for those who long for the warm embrace of loved ones. The owner of love for the servant who no longer knows the true meaning of love.

Protector for those who expect protection….No longer will your servant bear all these burdens, no power of hands to clench, fragile already my soul and body. You are the arbiter of the script of the life of a servant whom You also know my love for them.

Now, let Your pen write down all the provisions of life and death in the diary of my life. Now I have given you all your provisions, if this is the sweet path that I must take.

O Allah.I only give you everything….

Jama’ was only able to see Syahrel's grief from behind the hospital's glass mosque. I dare not say a word if it is not an emergency.  God's answer has now reached Syahrel, his phone is ringing again. This time Ibu Hajjah Zahrotul Hayati just as the opening conversation, the rest Syahairoza Dymian

as the Head of the Department of Haj Affairs at the Indonesian Consul General in Jeddah explained that the condition of the mother after blood and urine examination had chronic lung obstruction.

Just waiting for God's help and a touch of prayer from all worshippers, relatives and closest children. Seeing Syahrel getting late in grief, Jama’ and Zahra who had wanted to comfort him finally ventured to get closer.

“What pain munda Ka? I'm sorry I heard the big brother's conversation," in a shady voice Zahra asked.

“Obstruction lung-pary. What is Zahra?”

“Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) other terms emphysema, caused by limited airflow within the airway that is not completely reversible and is progressive”, Zahra explains.

“What is the cause and how many percent are the patients likely to survive?”

“Usually caused by the inflammatory process of the lungs due to harmful gases and can give a picture of systemic disorders. The likelihood of the patient surviving it depends on the antibodies and physical condition of the patient Ka.”

As Zahra explained, Syahrel's phone rang back. Hajjah Zahrotul Hayati signaled that Shahrel was steadfast in facing the life line that God had set until the news finally received. After the Zuhur prayer, exactly 12.30 Saudi Arabia time, the mother died.

Complete is the lifeline Syahrel faces. Now there is no one he loves anymore, the place is spoiled. No more raucous sounds that he usually heard after the dawn prayer. No more soft caresses that always wash his cheeks when he misses the presence of a father.

Mother left for eternity, lived Syahrel stretched solitude in the house that he deliberately gave to the Mother, to live with Dita, facing the ark that only plans and dreams only.

After the burial, the mother's body will be buried in the Ma’la cemetery complex, east of Harom Mosque and can be reached by foot for 15 minutes. There are many public burial sites in Mecca, but the most famous is the Ma`la cemetery. This is where the body of Siti Khadijah, the wife of Prophet Muhammad SAW was buried. She was the first woman to recognize the apostolate of Prophet Muhammad SAW. During her life Siti Khodijah very faithfully joined the Apostle in joy and sorrow.

The existence of Ma`la cemetery complex is not like the public cemetery in Indonesia because every cemetery in this cemetery without a headstone and mound. Only a stone as big as an adult fist was placed as a marker on a grave that was flat on the ground. The place where the ancestors of the Arabs who settled in the city of Mecca were buried. Confined with walls as high as approximately one meter as a separator with densely populated settlements.

Tears rolled throughout the room of Cipto Hospital. Not yet had time to tidy up all the needs of Dita, not yet buried the body of the lover he loved and never had, until finally the girl died. Only a story sheet is capable of deciphering every drop of tears, sighs, sweat and unrest in a wait empty of hope.

At the same time, Mother who from childhood took care of Syahrel alone is now leaning in a burrow. Even Syahrel did not know the last moments of his mother's life.

“I should have been by my mother's side when she faced the grip of death, when the angel of life embraced her sacred body warmly. Now the spartans are gone and will never return. Goodbye to the two eyes of my heart, God willing we will be together in His great palace.”