Sis, Mom and Angelina Jolie

You learn a whole lot when you spend two weeks straight laying flat on your back.

You learn that ceilings are wasted canvasses, where a world map or life-sized photo of Angelina Jolie would better serve your solitude.

You actually begin hearing better as you strain to amuse your senses.  Birds can actually sing.  A dripping faucet can drive you crazy.

And you find out how nice spending lost time with family can be.

My recent holiday in the U.S. was immediately disrupted by an unexpected eye problem that required emergency surgery.  Following the successful operation for a detached retina, returning to Indonesia right away was out of the question.

"You can't get on an airplane for two or three weeks," said my sympathetic but firm opthamalogist.  "The cabin pressure could cause your eye to explode."

At least that's what I think he said as I emerged groggily out of anesthesia.  Despite not wanting to miss more work, I didn't feel like arriving at Soekarno-Hatta with one empty eye socket.

With my vision temporarily impaired, I was basically useless.  So instead of pampering hotel service and numerous rounds of golf, I humbly asked my sister Susan and her husband for an extended reservation in their guest room.

"Would you mind if I stayed with you and Mo until my eye's okay to fly?" I asked.

"Sure, no problem," said my older sibling.  "What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"

And that's how it went throughout my stay with her.  My sister was more than accommodating. From home-cooked comfort food such as beef stew and Hawaiian fried rice, to nearly daily laundry service and cleaning, Susan truly helped ease my pain and the healing process.

I had hardly spent any time with her since leaving the U.S. in 1990 for a TV job in Asia.  Our subsequent conversations were limited to stopover greetings or infrequent phone calls.

Now, we had time to talk while she washed dishes.  We caught up during TV game show commercial breaks.  And while reminiscing over crabcakes, I found out how she and my brother-in-law first met.

"It was on a blind date…" Susan began, happily recounting the story I should have heard years before.

The pleasant, stress-free days in the cool hills above Pearl Harbor definitely helped my recovery, and restored a neglected family tie.

On the days I needed to see my doctor for post-operation check-ups, it was more convenient to stay in the city center.  And that meant staying with mom for the first time in nearly 20 years.

Oh, Elsie has visited wherever I've lived, and we've travelled together to destinations from Seoul to Las Vegas.  But it had been awhile since I overnighted in her place of residence.

With the normal aches and pains of an 85-year-old, she lives with other senior citizens in a nice, low-rise apartment building specially designed for the elderly.  Each one-bedroom unit is clean and bright.

And small.

We mapped out space on the living room floor.  Mom had borrowed a neighbor's futon mattress, which fit snugly between the TV stand and her two-seat sofa.

That first evening, I planned to sleep as soon as I returned from a quick trip to the store with a friend.  When I opened the door, I saw a silhouetted sight that warmed and broke my heart at the same time.

There was Elsie, curled up on the futon I was supposed to sleep on, giving up her bed to her visiting son.

"Mom," I said first thing the next morning, "I couldn't sleep at all with you on the floor.  Please sleep in your bed tonight so I can get some rest."  I knew this reverse psychology would be the only way to get her to relent.

"Okay," she said.  "But only if that helps you sleep better."

As with my sister, my medical situation would provide the chance for time together I wouldn't have had otherwise.  We shared a full day's meals from when I can't remember.  I listened to stories about her favorite apartment friends over breakfast.  We laughed about our mutual distaste for tomatoes during dinner.

"Just thinking out loud.  Would you ever consider coming to live with me in Jakarta?" I asked as we sipped tea.  "You could have massages everyday which would help your back and legs.  And I'll hire a maid to help you with whatever you want."

"No, no," she replied.  "I live here, this is my home."

I was definitely thinking about how much I would miss her when the day of her passing comes.  And of this quality time with family that we all too often don't have.

Hawaii native Dalton Tanonaka is the co-anchor of Metro TV’s “Indonesia Now” program, seen on Saturday mornings at 7 a.m. and Sundays at 1 a.m.  He can be reached at dalton@metrotvnews.com.

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