Happy Birthday, Mom.

Today is my mother's 53rd birthday. And I'll tell something about my little family.

Since my father passed away after fighting his cancer in November 2010, my mother's been working alone. I know when my father left us, my mother was falling apart. She didn't ready yet. Buy we must say, the death came. And neither of us could prevent it--me, my brother and my mother.

Weeks after the death of my father were the hard time for me and my brother but were the hardest time for my mother. And by that time, my brother was about to entering his first year in college, which means, need more money. And my mother's working alone. She cracked her back. She did everything to make us all live until now. And we survive together.

My family is not that rich as Richie Rich. We eat what my mother cooked for us. We live in simpleness. My mother works in a company that makes clothes for a brand in Indonesia. She's the one who wakes up first between me and my brother at 04:00 am everyday. She washes our clothes, does chores, cooks for us, and goes to her office really early. It takes about 2 hours if she doesn't stuck at traffic to get to her office. And she must be at her office at 08:00. A minute late, her salary will be cut. And she will always be the one who comes home late.

This is little me and my mother. Was captured when I was 2 or 3 years old.

My family is not a verbal family. We don't talk. I mean, we talk, we do show our expressions, but in other times, we just don't. Including saying 'happy birthday' to each family members. We don't know if we either too shy--or what--or maybe assuming that silent is as good as gold, I don't know. We don't know.

Like today. My mother's 53rd birthday. Neither of me and my brother say "happy birthday" to my mother. But I remember that today is my mother's birthday. And so does my brother--as well. And it happens not only once. It happens every year. When other family members in others families celebrate their family members' birthdays by having a dinner or party and wish for those who are in birthday frankly--in verbal, my family just don't.

I remember when I was 4 years old, my parent were celebrating my birthday in our house. We invited people (mostly my friends), I cut my birthday cake--with Teletubbies ornaments on it, I wore my best dress--still with that Teletubbies motif. And after that, I haven't celebrated my birthday parties anymore. I don't expect it too much though.

We just don't saying happy birthday. But we know, we do know, that in each our family members' prayers, there are always our names. Real family won't ever let you down and always wish the best for you. And that's what I believe. And I'm not worry. It's just a happy birthday greet. And my family is not a verbal family. I believe my family. I believe my brother. I believe my mother, and I believe my father too as well.

Quoted to William Hakim's dialog to Karla in Forgiven (a novel by Morra Quatro),

"I just can't tell you how much I love you. That's just--way beyond my vocabulary.."

And so do I, Mom. I can't tell you how much I love you because I'm not a verbal person and I know that our family isn't too. And I don't know how to say "Happy birthday. I love you." in front of you without looking so weird.

So I just write. And I promise that one day, I'll say happy birthday in front of you. Making you proud. Give you an achievement I reach, and saying thank you much. Though I know, my thank you(s) won't ever be enough. But I promise. Just wait for me and brother. We will make you proud. No matter what.

Happy birthday, Mom. I love you. So much. I always wish the best for you. In my prays. In my thoughts. In my silent. I may don't talk. But I care. I'm sorry for making you mad these days. I never mean it. Really. I hope you--we had great years ahead and I wish--really wish, that God will let you see me and brother make you proud. And I'd say a thousand amen(s) for that.

Sincerely, with all the love I have,

your one and only non-verbal daughter.