I lost count how many rainy afternoons and nights I spent sitting on this porch. Almost always with my mom next to me. When I was younger she’d make me a cup of chocolate milk, particularly on rainy nights. Now that I am way older I usually make us a pot of tea to enjoy. And it really is bliss. Just sitting there, enjoying the view and the rain.
We moved to this house when I was 11 and couple year later my dad was offered a job abroad which he accepted and off we move. We didn’t sell the house, my older sibs live and took care of it while we were away. As it turned out, our little adventure abroad took just a bit longer than expected. My parents returned a few years earlier than me. Still, I leave the house as an 8th grader, I moved back in permanently after I got my Master. Though we returned there almost every summer holidays I really didn’t spend a lot of years there, particularly since I got married less than I year after I returned.
But one thing that I cherish the most about my parents house is the porch. It is not big, in fact compared to say the Desperate Housewives’s type of house it is positively tiny but it is large enough to hold 3 chairs and a small table. And that’s where my mom and I like to perch with our teas.
Porch conversation ranges from trivia to serious stuff, whatever we feel like talking about at that particular time. Sometimes we don’t talk at all, simply enjoying each other’s company. The rain never last long, even if it did, my mom always have a tons of thing to do. I used to get annoyed. That is until I became a mom myself. Then I cherish whenever we got the chance to have our sit-down time.
We don’t just sit there during the rain of course. We’d sit there even when there’s no rain. Usually on holiday mornings or rare afternoons. We were lounging there when my sister’s then boyfriend suddenly made an appearance and got to be grilled by us before my sister show up. He pass the test just fine. He went on to be my brother-in-law. Another memorable moment was the time that a total stranger come out of a becak selling his homemade layered cake door-to-door. My mom invited him to the porch, he told us he originally came from Bangka, then he moved to Jakarta and now starting a cake business. He proceed to tell us about his layered cake, how it is made using traditional methods and recipe handed down from his mom’s family. Then he cut a small slice for us to taste. Man it was delicious! My mother instantly knew he was telling the truth. You see my mom used to live in Bangka when she was young and the cake taste of her childhood. She’d come to her friends’ house and their mom would offer her their version of the layered cake. My mom sign on to became a lifelong customer immediately.
Every year he would come to our house to deliver the cakes for Eid. We witness his business grow from his mode of transport, he started with the humble becak, then bajaj, until finally he has a minivan to transport his goods. His daughter now handles the order but every now and then he would come out himself to deliver our cakes. Our family is such a longtime customer that there are certain cakes that are now off the menu except for us. How can we not love them?
I visit my parents a lot, and I do have dates with my mom, so it’s not like I don’t see them at all. Even so, opportunity to sit at the porch is not as much as it used to be. What better way to preserve the memory then? How about you? Do you have a porch that you love?
Cerita Agatogata 
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