In the past few days, my feed has been filled with the “Gala Bunga Matahari” trend. In this trend, people share their experiences of losing loved ones. Watching these stories can be incredibly emotional, especially if you’ve gone through something similar. Some people compare their grief to others’, some find it strange to share such personal experiences publicly, while others empathize deeply and relate to the situation.
It’s been almost 12 years since I lost my dad. People always tell me that I’m a carbon copy of him. I can’t deny it—our temperaments are strikingly similar. If you’ve ever seen me angry, you’ve seen a glimpse of him. The main difference is that he had a bit of a temper, which, unfortunately, contributed to his hypertension and ultimately took his life. Our relationship was unique; our love language was debating. We constantly argued, but we loved each other deeply.
One vivid memory I have is from when I graduated from elementary school. I was one of the top three national scorers in my school. My father, a man not easily moved, shed a tear that day out of pride. That moment became both a cherished memory and a source of deep trauma. He died a week before the announcement of the national exams. I didn’t need to take a break from school because classes were already dismissed. It was so sudden. I still remember the ventilator and the tears in the hallway.
A week later, during the exam announcement, I got a perfect score in math. My school held a ceremony where they gave us flash drives as a token of appreciation— yeah I know weird flex to giving flashdisk. I remember feeling hollow. The event ended, and I felt nothing. It was as if I had blocked it all out, not allowing myself to imagine what it would have been like if he had been there with me. The same feeling came when I got accepted to ITB. I had chosen the highest-passing-grade major on a whim, not imagining my father’s reaction.
I thought I had moved on until Sal Priadi released his song. From the first listen, I knew it wasn’t just a love song. The lyrics spoke to our remorse over the past.
It got me on this lyrics
Kangennya masih ada disetiap waktu
Sal Priadi – Gala Bunga Matahari
Kadang aku menangis bila aku perlu
Tapi aku sekarang sudah lebih lucu
Jadilah menyenangkan seperti katamu
Jalani hidup dengan penuh suka cita
Dan percaya kau ada dihatiku selamanya
I hate this song because it caught me off guard. To make matters worse, it’s now popular and played casually in coffee shops. It made me reflect on the past years and realize that I hadn’t been coping with my grief; I was just toughening up and moving on, pushing that experience aside. Grief is like a big wave—it can hit you out of nowhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Listening to this TED talk, I learned about moving forward. This experience is something I need to carry with me, something that might happen again in the future. While I’m not glad it happened, I’m grateful that it shaped who I am today. I know my dad is always rooting for me, no matter how silly or impulsive my decisions may be.
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