In the years that followed, visiting Mama's grave became a quiet ritual Nathan secretly looked forward to. Every birthday, Papa would take him there, just the two of them. Papa rarely spoke while they were there. He would simply gaze at the headstone, recite a short prayer, and then fall silent, as though holding onto stories too heavy to share.
Now that Nathan could walk and talk, he always sat calmly by Papa's side. "Happy birthday, Ma…" he whispered softly. "I can read books by myself now… I like drawing too. Grandma says I look like you."
Yet one thing kept troubling his mind. Since that very first visit, Mrs. Suyoto had never been seen again.
"Pa," he asked one day, his voice quiet but earnest, "that Grandma from before… the one who got mad at you… did she pass away?"
Papa turned to him, hesitant to answer. "Why do you ask that, Son?"
"Because… every year we come here, but she's never around. Does she come after we leave? Or… does she not want to see me?"
Papa let out a long sigh. His eyes grew distant. "Your grandma is alive, but her heart hasn't healed. Your Mama was her only daughter. And she… she hasn't been able to forgive fate."
Nathan gave a small nod, not fully understanding, but sensing enough to know his grandmother couldn't accept him yet. He clutched Papa's finger. "It's okay, Pa. I still have Grandma. And I have you."
Papa smiled, though his gaze remained heavy with sorrow. "Yes, you have me. And Mama… she's always right here." He tapped gently on Nathan's small chest.
Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the warm embrace of the figure he always longed for, Mama, whose face he knew from photos, and whose voice he knew only from the heart.
—
The following year, when Nathan turned two, Papa once again took him to Mama's grave. A gentle breeze drifted by, wild grass sprouting between the stones. Yet one thing remained the same: Mrs. Suyoto was never there.
In Papa's lap, Nathan looked around with curious eyes. Then his small mouth formed soft, uncertain sounds: "Gran…ma… Ne…"
Papa turned, his brow furrowing. "Are you asking about Grandma?"
Nathan gave a tiny nod, his little fingers pointing aimlessly, as if hoping the figure he longed for would step out from behind the shadows of the trees.
Papa let out a sigh. "Papa doesn't know how she is. Since Mama passed, Grandma has never come again. Maybe she's angry… maybe she doesn't want to see us."
Nathan didn't fully understand. But he felt the sadness, carried in Papa's voice, in the air that suddenly felt heavy, in the silence of a graveyard that never changed.
He tightened his grip around Papa's finger. As if to say, "If Grandma doesn't come, I'll still be here. With Papa. With Mama."
---
At three years old, Nathan once again went with Papa to visit Mama's grave. But that day was different. Before going to the cemetery, Papa took him to a large kindergarten, with a tall white cross standing in its courtyard.
"We'll register first, okay?" Papa said as he lifted Nathan out of the car. "You'll go to school here."
Nathan's eyes widened in awe at the building. The walls were painted bright, the playground stretched wide, and the swings creaked softly as the wind pushed them back and forth.
Not long after, a woman with warm brown skin and neatly tied hair approached. Her smile was gentle, and her voice soft.
"You must be Nathan," she greeted, crouching down to his level. "Welcome. My name is Miss Kristin. I'm a playgroup teacher here."
Nathan gave her a shy, wide smile. But when his eyes shifted back to Papa, that smile slowly faded.
Papa was speaking to Miss Kristin. But… his tone was different. Warmer. His gaze lingered longer. He even chuckled lightly, a kind of laugh Nathan had never heard when Papa spoke with Grandma or the neighbors.
Nathan narrowed his eyes. Hmm… Papa likes her?
He tugged at Papa's hand, signaling he wanted to leave. Papa nodded and said goodbye to Miss Kristin.
On the way to the cemetery, Nathan remained unusually quiet. His face no longer carried the brightness it had earlier. But once they arrived before the gravestone that read Maria Suyoto, his expression softened again. He stood, taller now than the year before.
"Mama, I'm taller now… big boy… I go to school…" he babbled proudly, pointing to his chest.
Papa smiled faintly. Sitting cross-legged before the grave, he took Nathan's hand in his. "Maria… I registered Nathan for playgroup today. And…" his voice dropped, hesitating. "I introduced him to Kristin…"
Nathan's head snapped toward him, suspicion flashing in his little eyes.
He said nothing, but inside, the question rang loud and sharp: Papa… are you trying to find me a new Mama?
---
"Luff Mama!" Nathan suddenly cried, wrapping his little arms around the gravestone, pressing his cheek against the cold stone.
Papa froze, startled, but all he could do was watch from behind. He knew Nathan didn't fully understand what death meant… yet the child's love for his mother was so real, so deep, so… crushing to the chest.
Inside Nathan's heart, a storm rumbled: "Awws! If Papa dares to get a new Mama… I'll bite! Mama is only one! She can't be replaced!"
He pressed his damp cheek against the gravestone, kissing it as if it were warm skin.
"Mama, I luff Mama… don't go, Mama… don't be wepwaced, Mama…" he whispered, though what escaped his lips was only broken baby talk, garbled and halting.
Papa bowed his head. Something caught in his breath. Perhaps guilt. Perhaps longing. Or… perhaps he was questioning once more all the choices he had yet to make.
—
And it seemed Nathan's suspicions were starting to come true.
A few days after that visit to the cemetery, Papa brought Miss Kristin home. The sweet dark-skinned woman stepped into the living room with a gentle smile, then was introduced to Grandpa and Grandma in the dining room.
"Pa, Ma, this is Kristin," Papa said, pulling out a chair for her.
Miss Kristin greeted politely, "Good afternoon, Sir, Ma'am…"
Grandpa gave a curt nod. Grandma forced a smile, though her eyes seemed to read far deeper than her lips allowed.
Meanwhile, Nathan, sitting in his little dining chair, watched silently. His hand clutched a spoon but didn't move. His eyes darted back and forth between Papa and the woman.
He drew in a long breath.
"As a grown man, I get it, Papa needs a companion. His life is heavy, and he's always been alone. But as a child… I can't help but feel jealous! Especially when it's only been days since I hugged Mama's gravestone!"
Nathan lowered his head. The spoon in his hand scraped slowly against his little plastic plate, making a faint, dragging sound.
Papa glanced at him briefly. "Nathan, come on, eat your veggies," he said lightly.
Nathan didn't answer. Inside, he muttered, "Whether I eat or not isn't the point, Pa. Right now, you're too busy bringing someone new into our family."
But all that came out of his mouth was a small, "Okay, Pa…"
---