Currently love : banana milk

I rarely write these days. a good friend told that maybe because I'm too happy, he also add ''whats wrong with you and the depressive writing?'' I was like, well he got it right. is not like I'm that happy. I just found myself moving forward. I realize that there are view things I must left in my life. the huge one is the bereavement. The bitter point of my life which really drowning me deep. the death and untold stories. When my dad gone, he left me clueless and hurt. That was the first time to me facing coffin with someone close to me inside not to mention the first time being a stupid swollen face main cast at the funeral.
through all the tears some disease come along with it. the disease when my heart stop to beat at couple seconds every time I hear words like, hospital, corps, some particular serious illness that has to do with blood and dad. The disease when the noise from ambulance was freaking me out.
not even have time to healing, my grandmother follow along the path. she died after 6 days coma. I can't even imagining how those horrible 6 days passed away. Memories that I really mean to erase it now. How I wish I could just forget it. get myself together.
I may be hurt. but I know my grand was the one who hurt the most. a day before she go, i hardly put gut in my mouth to whisper to her ear told her about love and how to letting go.
God. see?
I just started again.
well, okay.
talking about moving on. I once read the heroine detective series and my favorite chapter was when she got a case about the missing portrait at the gallery. The portrait of a girl wear a wedding dress. the portrait was paint by the father in order to fulfill his one and only beloved daughter last wish. She had suffered a serious illness for a long time and at the exact afternoon she ask her dad to paint her in a wedding gown. Her dad is well-known painter at the region. She died month after that.
One day a man who owned the famous gallery at the town came into the painter ask his permission to display his daughter portrait at the upcoming exhibition. He refused with the reason he painted that one without any intention to collect money from it. After a little debate he finally allow the man with promise will give it back right after the exhibition ended.
But after the last day arrive and when the father ask back his portrait, that gallery man told him that he can't. he already sign the contract he mistakenly read as the temporary life contract. he is trapped. the man said that the picture is now officially belong to the gallery. it broke the father's heart.
feeling hurt and betrayed. he plan a revenge. a quite tricky plan I can say. couple months after that he 'stole' the portrait at the day of the exhibition to humiliate the owner in front of many visitors. The portrait 'missing'. the picture of it replace by the plain white area while the frame still hanging at the right place.
The staff panicking as they hurriedly call police and the detective.
Long story short.
spica, the heroine detective, finally found the answer of the case. The portrait isn't lost. it actually just seal by thick plain paper just the right size to cover the whole picture. it can easily role by tying a nylon string at the bottom of the paper to the film roll machine.
When the father found out that he already caught. he recklessly decided to burn down the gallery and the picture along with him as his final plan when he ever caught up. Spica hurriedly approach the room when the fire started to licking fast.
He told her his reason why he doing all this. he just didn't want the greedy man got what he wants. using him and his deceased daughter as the money tools. so he decided if he can't get it back nobody can.
Spica hold him as she speech as loud as she can
'is this what you thought your daughter wish? to give you only twenty year of her life? what do you think she would say when see you being like this?'
'isn't that the memories? despite of the paint or any other things. isn't that memories are more important? the precious things you always have with you that actually you will burn now?
and he decided to stop

Long posting short,
the spica's speech always got a place in my heart. Memories do last forever. of course my dad and grandma never willing to give me only twenty years to be happy and then living in a sorrow for the rest of my life. So I decided to move on. One thing, if I ever sad again I know the memories will warm my heart. equal to a hug from my father or a laugh from my grandma.
just need to close my eyes.
and remembering.

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thank you ☺