Article 1:
For official reasons, I haven't returned to my hometown in Tomb-Sweeping Day for many years.
Finally, the first public holiday. The main task is to go back to my hometown to sweep graves and worship my ancestors.
Saturday April 7th, 2007. Departing at 8: 00 in the morning, it was sunny and sunny all the way. Lao Fang, a friend of Kunming, drove with him, nearly 300 kilometers away, and walked in two sections. In Jinping, I spent some time eating Chinese food at my wife's sister's house. Due to the increase of Jinping's staff, his wife's two sisters, brother-in-law and children all went with him, so his wife had to call the car of Jinping's immigration director again, so nine people from two cars rushed to Dunzhai. On the way, according to the distance, I visited the graves of my mother-in-law and father-in-law. Then at Mianhuachong intersection in Longchi, my friend Lao Fang and I hurried to my hometown Bangzhai. My wife first accompanied my second brother-in-law and second sister to Zhongpo to see Liu Jiazu's grave. When I arrived at my hometown Bangzhai, it was already past four o'clock in the afternoon.
Because in order to take care of the children's class time on Monday, the clan elders in their hometown began to sweep graves in the morning. When we arrived, we had come back from the whole grave-sweeping ceremony.
In this way, we have to postpone the grave sweeping until the next day, and then sweep the graves of several ancestors within three generations to show filial piety.
That night, there were three tables for dinner. The elders are my second aunt, fourth uncle and fourth aunt, accompanied by my eldest brother, eldest sister-in-law, third brother, my uncle's two sons and daughters-in-law, my uncle's three sons and daughters-in-law, two brothers, Kehuakekun handed down from my grandfather, and their corresponding grandnephew, plus my husband and wife and my friend Laos, at least 40 people. Over the past twenty years, my second uncle, third uncle, my mother and father have died one after another, and my chances of returning to my hometown have gradually decreased. Therefore, many nephews and grandchildren basically don't know each other, and they can only judge who they are from their looks.
My father is an only child and has two sisters. A few uncles, in fact, are only * * * squire, and their fathers are only cousins, but my generation has not exceeded five generations, and they are also close relatives.
Article 2:
The next day, Sunday, April 8. The weather is still fine. In the morning, my wife, Lao Fang, accompanied by my niece, Xiao Yi, and four of us were first buried in the mother's tomb of Huanggou Juanwo Formation at 1974.
My ancestors crouched in the yellow dog, my sleeping elders, my great-grandmother and great-grandfather, and some other elders of this clan.
Although the distance is only 2 Li, it is a path. Out of the village, over the dam, and then into the tea mountain. The mountain in my hometown is hilly, mainly planting camellia oleifera. On this Camellia Mountain, except for the main roads and some paths in Mao Mao, the rest have to walk by drilling the mountain. In the Camellia oleifera forest, the trees in the mountains are taller and the trees on the slopes are shorter, so you have to bend down and get under them. At this time, the pedicel of Camellia oleifera faded, new leaves began to grow, tea bubbles appeared, and the tea petals were green. In the bright sunshine, the branches of Camellia oleifera are green. Mother's grave is quietly placed in this camellia forest on Dangyang slope.
My mother, named Long, was born in Li's walled city. She was born in the eighth year of the Republic of China (A.D. 19 19) and died on February 7, 1975 in Gregorian calendar 1975, only 35 days after her grandmother's death, when she was under 55 years old.
The day my mother died, it was December 27 of the lunar calendar, and it was dark in front of me.
At this time, in the small hut, every household has been immersed in the thick atmosphere of the New Year, and only my family has to bear the unfortunate grief of losing my mother.
At that time, I had not graduated from high school, and my sadness was hard to move. Nai tearfully wrote an ancient poem of 1 14 lines, copied it on the wall of the study with a brush, and was later included in the collection of poems "Wandering". What is this? Years old in Jiayin in November, and at the age of twenty, the north wind blows. My grandmother didn't get sick when she came home. I wandered around once every 80 years. Only 35 days later, the mother left her child. On the 27th of the twelfth lunar month, New Year is busy, and others celebrate China. I am alone in front of the hall, which is a big event, caressing the coffin and crying. Five of the fifty mothers are not old, and their mothers can still drink three glasses of wine. The whole world is celebrating the New Year in Dai Xiao, and everyone is very happy, except me. The sun can't stay, the handle of the bucket moves west and the water flows east. A paper flying butterfly becomes an old friend, and the high hall is full of trees and soil. What's the reward for nothing growing? Only one sad sentence is still vivid in retrospect, with a dull pain in my chest and tears streaming down my face.
It has been 33 years since I left my mother. Can I have one first? To study? This young man, suddenly became? Know destiny? Middle-aged Old Master Q Q. Compared with her mother's age when she died, she was only four years younger. Fifty years ago in the spring, my 37-year-old mother gave birth to me. Then, after experiencing the suffering of poor material life and abnormal spiritual life in the late 1950s, early 1960s and mid-1970s, she has successfully given birth to five children, and her health is obviously not as good as before. Sick mothers often work with their palms pressed against their bellies in the fields, on spinning wheels and looms, and by the kitchen stove? In that era of extremely underdeveloped economy and lack of medical care, the only common way to treat mother's disease was scraping. When he was taken to the hospital, he was terminally ill and there was nothing he could do.
In the last few days when I took my mother home from the county hospital, I didn't even think that my mother used her own blood to turn into nutritious milk and selfless feelings, raising us to grow up day by day, and as children, we couldn't use our own blood to turn into a life-saving medicine at all?
I don't know, in this long 30-odd years, this mother who never has to work, worry or take care of our children, will her old man's body be a little better now? Ah! 33 years, compared with the long river of time, is only a distance between heaven and earth, but for our mother and son, it is life and death together, and the vast world is two days! If God can let me live for another 30 years, I will cherish this maternal love. The first thing I want to do is to ensure that my mother has a healthy body and a happy old age. Mom, I blame God! Why wait until we children become parents before we understand this simple and clear truth?
Mom, my own mom! 33 years ago, you drove a crane westward and cried for your son. Pity my mother, pity my mother, my mother lived to be ninety years old, why is my mother too short-lived? My mother is bitter, my mother is bitter, the clothes are patched, the quilt is not new, and the bed is covered with sacks. My mother is poor, and she is still saving money at the end of her life, and her pockets are wrinkled. Who says my mother is poor and my son says my mother is the richest! Farming, reading, heirlooms and academic achievements in a certain subject. Oh! I am particularly anxious before I am old, and I want my parents to go back to their hometown. Last year's children and grandchildren went to their hometown in the province, and their ancestors touched their faces and heads. Look around too much, and grandma looks at it and then looks at it. At present, you knock at the door and smell the dog barking, but you don't listen to your parents. There was no figure over the couch, and there was no mother waiting in front of the door. It's dark, and when it's not good, it's Buddha.
But what about now? Mom! Tomorrow is February 22nd in the ancient calendar. It was the day you gave birth to me, my birthday. You were a baby then, and now I'm a frosty man with mottled sideburns. ? When will you stop thinking and hating? People are all vaguely different, so why ask for something outside of home? I miss my relatives every night, but I don't see a skeleton every day. Thinking of my mother looking at the rural platform adds seven points of comfort and sorrow! Conan had several good dreams, and his parents were very filial to him. When I wake up from my dream, I feel sad, but I will make sacrifices like a song. ?
Article 3:
The second stop of the festival is the cross slope that turns west on the way back. Hengpo, as its name implies, is a hillside parallel to the village, facing the stockade from north to south, only a stone's throw away. This is my mother's paradise. Besides, my third uncle's grandmother and my second uncle's daughter-in-law were buried with him.
Hengpo's tomb is not in my plan for this sacrifice. The reason is that considering the tight time, I'm afraid I can't be busy all day. When I left the gate, it was my eldest brother who specifically explained: I'm going to Hengpo to give my mother a kiss! ?
My mother, a member of the Li family, Mao Lan, died soon after she married my father, and she had no children. Later, my father married my biological mother, Long. So, compared to my birth mother? Mom? For example, again? Mom? Care.
My mother has given birth to eight children. But only five people survived, a woman and four men. My sister is the oldest and I am the youngest. My second brother, Bai Ke, was 22 years old at that time, and was swallowed up by a catastrophic flood at 1970.
My mother, in her young life, never left a man or a woman, but her position in our family was particularly high, and all her dead people were highly respected. Because, according to the superstition of the old people, they have counted their lives and seen them? Is it sweet? , said our brothers and sisters, all in the old niang's grave? Send? I came to Shi Yang. So my soul in heaven, especially a room full of girls who love the world. Especially my eldest brother, even if he is disobedient or does something wrong, he can't even complain and accuse his mother, let alone get angry and beat and scold. Otherwise, big brother will have a headache and brain fever. Do you see it? Is it sweet? It is said that it is also the reason why my mother prefers the underworld and loves her children. What will mom say at this time? The elders said that the dead people said well, and your mother must not talk about her daughters in the underworld. ? I really thought about it afterwards. Therefore, every festival, our family will never forget to offer sacrifices? Mom? . Especially in Tomb-Sweeping Day, it is a protocol to go to Hengpo's grave to pay homage.
As a rule, we offer food such as wine and fruit to mother's grave, put paper money on the grave and the top of the grave, burn it at the end of the grave, and then burn incense, light candles, kowtow, offer sacrifices and set off firecrackers.
At this time, I knelt in front of my mother's grave. This is an old son who has never met before, a memorial service and filial piety for a young and elderly mother! I estimate that when I died that year, I must be very young and beautiful, maybe only seventeen or eighteen or twenty years old. Now, the son in front of the young mother will be 50 years old tomorrow!
Yo, my mother! If your young life can really be reincarnated, wouldn't it be my age now?
However, when I was walking in the long river of time, I crossed an eight-volume book "Ouyang Family Tree" revised and supplemented in the 1980s, which was more than a foot thick, but I only found it? Euclid, bury the cross slope? A few words, very vague. This is the same as the genealogy of any surname of the Chinese nation. The huge foundation of all families is based on the gestation, life and death, continuation and even fame and fortune of men's lives, while the scarce land has lost the poetic brilliance and flowing traces of women's lives!
Yo! My aunt Yang loves me, so I especially hope that one day, one day, she will suddenly float away from the pile of familiar yellow imitation song lyrics and tap on my door. Then, sit down slowly, have a heart-to-heart talk with me, untie those stubborn knots that have been entangled in her heart for a long time, live again, and grasp the lost track of life.
The warm spring day has gradually risen to the top of your head, which is very hot and dry. Take off your cotton-padded clothes and feel relaxed.
Next, is it for me? Neighbors? My third aunt and my second uncle's daughter-in-law Lianhua went to the grave to beg for her door? Neighbors? The relationship between two generations of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law will always be harmonious and friendly in another world.
As a result, the whole morning's sweeping activities ended.
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