Page 82 - B. Ing_Antologi Cerpen Xl-6

then on, the mango tree in our backyard became our
favorite spot.

Every afternoon, my father always took the time
to sit with me there, telling me about many things from
his childhood stories to the future plans he had in store
for me. He always said that he wanted me to grow up to
be a strong and independent child, but still have a heart
full of love. However, when I turned ten years old,
something we never imagined happened. My father fell
ill. At first, he just coughed a lot and felt tired. However,
over time, his condition worsened. He rarely sat under
the mango tree with me anymore.

He was more often lying in bed, his bright face
began to look pale and his eyes were sad. Mom tried her
best to take care of Dad. I often saw her getting up in the
middle of the night, changing dad's compress towel or
giving him medicine that the doctor had prescribed. In
between times, mom stilltried to pay attention to me,
making sure that I didn't feel neglected amid her busy
schedule taking care of dad.

I couldn't stop the worry that kept gnawing at my
heart. I missed my father who was always smiling
brightly and full of enthusiasm. The days felt empty
without his stories under the mango tree. That afternoon,

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