Tu me manques

You would've been 60 today.

Let me guess--we would've been celebrating it by having dinner somewhere.
You would've told me to order the finest foods combined,
And then we'd open the wine bottle--because you're classy like that.

We would've talked about work.
You would've asked me how I was doing, followed by some advice on dealing with stupid bureaucracy.
You would've told us how in your office, the know-it-all colleagues annoyed you.
Or how hard it was to convince the office to save a tree from being exploited.
Because you're a thoughtful hard worker like that.

Of course we would've talked about the wedding.
You would've kept our feet on the ground, preventing us from getting crazy.
You would've told me to calm down, take everything one by one and provide me the most logical answers to my outrageous concerns.
You would've joked if I was ready to marry your son.

And then you would've made me say yes simply by showing your affection toward your family.
Because you're fatherly heart-warming like that.

Happy birthday, Om Adjie. I still wish they would name that tree you saved after you.

But most of all, I still wish you'd be there next month so I can officially call you Bapak.