My Late Father's Message From His Part Time Job As A Masseuse Poem by Ayatullah Nurjati

I was thrown back into my childhood where I was raised and how my parents raised me independently. So all this time, what I studied from elementary school to college was part-time money from the sweat, climbs and screams of their patients or my father's service to the country, indeed at this time my father was no longer working or retiring. However, perhaps because there is the highest award for those who serve the country, the appreciation of the award is reflected through monthly wages, health insurance and child support.

In fact, my parents gave me a meagre amount of money. It is known that my father is only a lowly retired civil servant, in order to meet the needs of my family, he who was old to earn a fortune for the family must be willing to look for odd money by massaging.

I could be proud of that because even though they have such a profession, I was still lucky to be able to get an academic education up to college compared to those who did not get an education at all, let alone go to college.

I remember very well when they always said that life must be based on sincerity and honesty, honesty is worldly gold and sincerity is the main capital in living life, that is my eternal principle. Where I stand is where I have to actualize myself as a sincere and honest person. Even though being honest sometimes hurts, but if we have the backing to be honest then everything will look human.

After my father retired completely, he had to also switch to the same profession as my mother, but the difference is that Dad is still strong when he has to work on his patients if the patient's house is far from my house, until far away cross the city sometimes. Indeed, my father was never involved in serious problems with illness, at most only headaches and colds.
Just imagine at that time he was already 63 years old. A face that is always tough with age that seems to never whine, never reaps gold in his shabby coffers and pockets, Still hopes and hopes that he can ride life, whether it's called Father, Father or Papa who is always strong in storms. Is it really a steep road that is always tread?

Because of my father, I was able to reap the old school bench with the knick-knacks of his greed and because of my father I was able to penetrate the essence of life through education. I am grateful for the old face that seems tireless to provide peace. Day, night that face always scavenges for diamonds for my family, but look at what I've done who can only think about myself.

The lines on the face that seemed to have faded and the muscles inched rickety, still that face always wore a smile.
Now it is clear that what he has ordered I have actually carried out even though I have not been in a totalitarian condition like him. I will always remember his message 'Helping people is very important compared to the results of your hard work in the form of money, later you can reap later in the hereafter' that was his message to me.

© Ayatullah Nurjati. PoemHunter.com