“When It Rains, It Pours”

I came home to Indonesia with an empty heart.
A deep emptiness I couldn’t describe — like I had left pieces of myself scattered across the ocean.

But when I hugged my family, I felt a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.
They are my real family. Not by blood, but by love.
Even though I’m adopted, I was never treated differently.

Sure, there were still unresolved questions in my heart about my origins and my adoptive parents — lingering emotional conflicts that had never fully healed — but I chose to bury those for now.
My focus was survival.
My focus was rebuilding.

Just three days after landing in Indonesia, one of my friends offered me a job as HR Manager in her company. I accepted. I had no time to waste — I needed purpose, structure, something to keep me grounded.

Meanwhile, I spent time visiting my dad in the hospital.
His lung condition had worsened, and he needed to be hospitalized.
We waited with hope, prayed for a miracle.

And then, it happened.

Exactly one month after my divorce decree came out from the U.S. Superior Court, my dad’s CT scan result arrived.

Stage IV lung cancer.
I felt like my soul left my body.
I was stunned.
Shattered.
“Oh, my Lord…. Another trial?”

I was just bleeding inside from the heartbreak of divorce.
Now this?
Now my dad?

I didn’t go home that day.
I couldn’t.
I stayed in a hotel room by myself — no lights, no sound, just my thoughts spinning, my chest aching.
I was deeply, utterly broken.

How much time does he have? Weeks? Months?
I didn’t know.
But as I sat there in silence, I realized something:

Maybe… just maybe… this was why God brought me back home.
Not to cry over a broken marriage,
But to be here, for my dad,
To care for him in his final days.

We celebrated his birthday in March 2018, at a small nearby restaurant.
His body was so thin — just skin draped over bones.
That image will never leave me.
Another heartbreak carved into my memory.

Around this same time, another storm rolled in — one I didn’t expect.
I became the target of bullying from a relative over an inheritance dispute on my mother’s side of the family.
I refused to hand over certain documents and asked him not to disturb my father, who was already so weak.

But instead of respecting that, he unleashed every form of verbal abuse you could imagine.
He insulted me, belittled me, made me feel like I was nothing…. in his eyes, I was like a useless girl because I am being adopted and my marriage collapsed…

I came home from that encounter numb.
Almost detached from reality.
Like my soul was slipping away.

Trial after trial after trial.

And then, just six months after his cancer diagnosis —
In July 2018, my father took his last breath.

………………………………………

This story is a part of my personal journey. Please do not copy or reproduce any part of it without permission. Sharing is welcome with proper credit and a link to this blog