Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my mother's death, and I can go to see her again. After my mother left, my previous concern for her turned into a yearning, which wrapped around me like a net. I am trapped in the net, sad and warm at the same time, and I don't want to break free. In the past three years, my mother has appeared in my dreams almost every night. It is strange that no matter what kind of dream she has, she will be there. It seems that my dream can't be separated from her. But I believe my mother knows that I miss her, so she will come to my dream to comfort me every night.
With my mother around, I feel very kind and warm every time I go home. When I get home, I always look for her like a tadpole looking for her mother. But my mother is very hardworking and doesn't often stay at home. She always waits until very late to see her back. If I know where she has gone from my neighbor, I will go directly to the fields and often help to do something.
After my mother left, my home became distant and strange, and the pace of going home was slow and heavy. I am always unhappy and can't be happy, because there is only endless sadness in my heart. Especially in the dead of night, I always immerse myself in my mother's world and secretly cry behind my sleeping wife's back. When my mother is around, I always feel like a child. I can discuss anything with her. After my mother left, I was at a loss. I know no one will love me anymore, because only my mother really loves me in this world. Without my mother, my land would cease to exist. In the days to come, I can only drift on the cold sea with a piece of wood in my arms, and I will never see the coastline or find a harbor to berth.
In my mother's memory, there are many, many warm pictures, and the scenes are so clear and kind.
When I was a child, I was very greedy. At the age of seven, I couldn't resist the temptation. I stole a dollar from my family to buy snacks. As a result, my mother pulled up my trouser legs and beat me half to death with a bamboo stick. I also asked my mother to recover the eighty cents on behalf of the government. Years later, I hit my daughter with the same tool, and my mind was full of scenes of my mother hitting me, and I couldn't move any more.
Thin and soft bamboo branches are excellent tools for hitting children. Their greatest advantage is that they don't hurt the skin, but only the bones. They are absolutely safe, durable, efficient and energy-saving. As soon as the whip went down, 567 blood stains burst out at once, swelling up like red earthworms, which was ugly and horrible. After a few strokes on the leg, it is basically completely bruised. After N days, there will still be a burning sensation. At that time, there were several sticks on the doorframe of almost every household, hanging over the head of childhood like handfuls of swords. The little guys looked at each other, gnashing their teeth with hate, but they were afraid to move the stool to climb up and pull it out, for fear of attracting another bad beating. Besides, it's everywhere, even in front of and behind the house. Adults drag bamboo tails back to build a melon rack around the fence as firewood, and when they are idle in rainy days, they take out one or two branches to beat the children. It really makes the best use of everything and serves multiple purposes. Extremely poor material life, swaggering bamboo branches one after another, colorful candy in the glass counter of the supply and marketing cooperative, which makes people drool six feet, roughly constitute the childhood epitome of the older generation of children.
But in my memory, this thing is rarely inserted at home, probably because our children are more obedient and less noisy. But I think it's more because my mother doesn't want to fight.
Like most primary school students' compositions, that night, my mother sat in front of my bed and touched the scar on my leg and cried. I'm a little overwhelmed. I didn't know what to say, so I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, but my tears failed me and refused to help me hide. I kept jumping out and falling. It took me many years to understand that all mothers in the world are the same: the pain is in the child and the pain is in the mother's heart.
To this day, I am especially grateful to my mother for her punishment. It was that beating that completely corrected my life and made me never do anything that made me feel ashamed.
When I was in Xiamen, I often went to a telephone booth to talk to my mother after work at night. It is really warm. Listening to my mother's kind and caring voice from afar, I was very happy at that moment, which melted my concern and homesickness bit by bit.
I kept holding the phone and refused to put it down, but my mother soon worried about the money and urged me to wait for her to hang up first. Walking out of the telephone booth, the deserted street in a foreign land became warm. I took a deep breath and found that tears had already slipped across my cheeks.
The most unforgettable thing is that my mother stayed in front of the bed for several months after her illness. It was a time that really belonged to me and my mother. When I was young, I was not sensible. After marriage, I was busy making a living. After I went out, I had to go home to see my mother once. I really didn't spend much time with her. Only this time, I can finally accompany her, but it's too late, because my mother's life has come to an end, and at best I just accompany her through the last journey. This is the one thing I regret most after my mother left. Moreover, the mother who had undergone brain surgery never regained consciousness, never knowing that her favorite son was by her side day and night in her last days, praying for her, worrying about her and crying for her. Every silent night, I listen to my mother's heavy breathing wholeheartedly, afraid to close my eyes, for fear that I will be separated from her yin and yang when I sleep. Never believe in Buddha and Bodhisattva, keep Guanyin in your heart. Never believe in ghosts and gods, close the doors and windows at night, and don't let the children come in and take my mother away. I went crazy to save my mother, to serve my mother, and refused to give up in the voice of almost everyone who advised me to give up. I am frantically looking forward to miracles, hoping that my heart can touch God. But the miracle did not happen in the end. On the day when countless wanderers rushed home to reunite with their loved ones, and every household was ready to decorate the new year's goods, mother finally put down her life's hard work and worries and drove the crane west, never to return.
After that, I went home and never saw my mother again. From then on, there was no mother's voice on the other end of the phone. Since then, my mother and I are not thousands of miles away from Wan Li, but the distance between heaven and earth, past lives and this life.
It was a cruel time, a cruel memory. Watching my mother's fresh life wither and haggard in front of me every day and leave bit by bit is simply the greatest pain and suffering in the world.
The mother who is paralyzed in bed is full of tubes. At first glance, it looks terrible. There are no ready-made doctors and nurses at home, and all things such as intubation, infusion bottle, sputum aspiration, catheterization, injection and feeding can only be done by ourselves. Mother is delirious and often tears them up when she is upset. It is very difficult to reset them, especially the stomach tube, which must be carefully inserted into the stomach from the nostril along the esophagus. If she is not careful, it will be inserted into the trachea, causing a strong back choking. But the most painful and difficult thing is not to insert a stomach tube but to suck sputum. It's basically like being tortured. When I was in the hospital, I was most afraid of seeing phlegm. I believe I am strong in this field. I have seen too much blood in the hospital in recent years. I often stand beside doctors and nurses to give medicine and blood to help rescue patients, but I still turn my head when I see them sucking sputum for patients. I never thought my mother would suffer like this. Every time I finish smoking, my mother is full of sweat, which is very hard, and I am heartbroken. I always cry while doing it. But phlegm can't be removed once or twice. Maybe it will come back later, so you have to harden your heart and suck it again. Because phlegm is the biggest killer of seriously ill people in bed.
I can't remember how many times I sucked sputum for my mother before her lung infection was cured. I realized that every time I pulled her back from the jaws of death. After her lung infection was cured and the hidden trouble of phlegm was eliminated, I was surprised that my mother was able to stay in the so-called largest hospital in Longyan for more than ten days without any medical conditions at home, and spent tens of thousands of dollars. It is a miracle that even the so-called famous doctor can't cure severe pneumonia. I only used a five-dollar ear-sucking ball instead of a lot of suction equipment in the hospital, and it should be a miracle that I blocked the death who wanted to drag my mother away countless times.
In the process of taking care of my mother, I used up all the tricks I learned from doctors and nurses in the hospital for several years, and often made my neighbors who came to visit my mother shake their heads. When we told my mother, the attending physician and the head of a department, she wanted to ask her what to do next after her lung infection was cured, the voice on the other end of the phone was obviously very surprised. He really didn't expect that my mother, who had been sentenced several times by him, was still alive.
At that moment, I was even a little proud. Years of hearing and seeing have already told me that hospitals and doctors are not as sacred as people think. I breathed a sigh of relief, at the same time, my confidence increased sharply, and my mother had no other problems. Then, as long as I take good care of myself, it will be difficult to stand up again, but I should be able to survive. I'm going to take care of my mother at home for a long time. As long as my mother doesn't leave me, don't say no matter how hard and tired she is, she will be willing to trade me for her. But I'm obviously naive. As the saying goes, a strong man breaks his wrist and bullies the weak and fears the hard. When a person has no disease or disaster, everything is fine. As TV said, it is not difficult to go up to the fifth floor in one breath. Once you have a physical or mental breakdown, everything will come. My mother is over 70 years old and can't stand this kind of tossing. No matter how hard she tried to keep it, there was nothing she could do.
Mother can't eat by herself. All food and medicine must be ground, pumped out with a syringe and fed through a stomach tube. It takes an hour or two to feed a meal. When things were better, I switched to feeding from my mouth, but it took longer because my mother either didn't chew food or didn't know how to swallow it after chewing. When I had no choice, I had to dig it out bit by bit to prevent choking. Mother's stomach has always been weak, and she can't eat cold food and raw food. She wants to burn the electric stove and feed it while burning. The old Chinese doctor who came to see my mother taught me to use a lot of Astragalus decoction instead of clear water to mix food, and the whole process basically kept my mother's digestive system normal.
In order to prevent bedsores, I turned my mother over every two hours and got a air mattress from a friend, which kept me going. In most people's imagination, the most difficult thing to care for patients who can't get up is the treatment of defecation. Many people in the hospital would rather pay others to do it for them than do it themselves. In fact, in the final analysis, most of these difficulties are psychological obstacles. But think about it, which one of us was not brought up by our parents? They didn't frown. Besides, an inch of grass can't report three rays of spring, even if we do more for our parents, it's not as much as they do for us. In fact, without a bodhisattva, God is nothing. The true God and Guanyin are our parents. Only they are the blessings of our lives and our eternal buddhas.
Therefore, instead of burning incense and worshiping Buddha, it is better to cherish and treat parents, family and friends, as well as all spiritual life. Only in this way can life be less regrettable and more happy.
After mom and dad left, I deeply realized the pain that my son wanted to raise and didn't kiss. I deeply regret that I neglected them too much and didn't fulfill my filial duty in time during their lifetime. This irretrievable regret and mistake nibbled away at my heart bit by bit, making my sad heart more riddled with holes. My mother is in good health. I have always been optimistic. She can live for another ten or twenty years, which is enough for me to be filial to her. Unexpectedly, the illness came down like a mountain. Just three or two seconds of cerebral hemorrhage, like an accident, quickly knocked down my mother, and when we believed the doctor's advice and risked craniotomy for her, today was obviously a wrong decision, which ended her life. At the same time, it unexpectedly accelerated the progress of the termination of his father's life.
After my mother left, my father was depressed and hopeless, unable to untie his heart and get out of the shadows. The long-dormant disease took advantage of the opportunity to attack on a large scale. This time, I learned my lesson and sent my father to the second hospital, but the outcome was fixed and I was unable to return to heaven. The dying father left in a hurry after his mother left 130 days. My father walked very calmly, without any nostalgia and disappointment. It's not like going to my mother's date in the face of death. Mom and dad have a very good relationship. They held hands and gritted their teeth together in the wind and rain for fifty or sixty years. The love of the older generation doesn't have ups and downs, only dragging the children with difficulty, but they are as close as lips and teeth and last forever.
On the morning of mother's burial, my brother saw a figure on the roof in front of her grave, doing something like hoeing the ground. This incredible number has disrupted our lives. New Year's Day is a new grave. Who will go there? Until today, this mystery has not been solved.
In our hometown, there is an ancient and mysterious legend: a person will walk out of his body and wander around 100 days before his death. If so, is the shadow in front of the mother's grave really the soul of the father? If so, did my father's whole body, mind and even soul go with her at the moment she was sent away?
Perhaps, this is the last love a father can give his mother: after birth, after death.
In the past three years, I have recalled the dribs and drabs with my mother countless times and turned my heart into tears again and again. My mother left me the last sentence, the last warmth, which made me unforgettable.
I happened to be in the hospital at that time and received the news from my mother overnight. After putting her on a stretcher, she called my nickname and said, Don't call a doctor if you have no money at home. After a series of examinations and visits, my mother was sent to the ICU where her family members were not allowed to accompany her to bed, and then she underwent brain surgery soon. Mother never said a word with complete meaning until her death.
This string of mother's last words tells the hearts of all mothers in the world: I would rather sacrifice everything, even my life, than add any burden to my children. At that time, we had just built a house. After building a house, it was a common phenomenon that there was only one bottle of detergent left in the house. But my mother's words strengthened my determination to save her at all costs. I know very well that even if we had the ability, my mother would have said the same thing and wouldn't let us spend money for her.
Thanks to my friend Chang Zheng, my brother's brother-in-law Ke Hong, and my two sisters. As soon as we signed the consent form for the operation, they each gave 10,000 yuan to make my mother's hand operation go smoothly. I am especially grateful to my wife. During the whole process of my mother's illness, I devoted myself to nursing her day and night. I even often eat at my mother's bedside, doing nothing, doing nothing. But my wife didn't complain, nor did she care about other gains and losses like other families with brothers and sisters. I am rushing to do some small jobs every day to supplement my family. When I come back, I still have a lot of housework to do. I will take care of it when I am free. My two daughters come home from school on weekends and always run to their mother's room. I always consciously arrange them to help my mother wash her hair, wipe her body and change clothes at this time. There are many people, and then let the children learn to be grateful and learn to be filial.
My mother is cheerful and helpful. In my hometown, critically ill patients are taboo for everyone. But in the days when my mother is in bed, neighbors and relatives often come to visit. Big cousin Wende and his wife have always been very close to their mother, and they will take time to see her every three days. Mother's good popularity has become more and more rare in her painful process.
I never hugged my mother in my memory. Although I have been attached to my mother since I can remember, I have never been ashamed to express it in this way. After my mother was ill, I poured out my love for her with countless hugs and calls, trying to wake her up, but miracles were not always generous, and my mother didn't come back at last.
The last time I held my mother, she was buried in a small porcelain box. My hot mom sent me her last warmth on earth through her new home in heaven, and then she slowly cooled down in my arms in my tears.
From then on, I became an orphan, separated from my mother on both sides of Naihe Bridge. Since then, my thoughts have been fixed in the kind smile of my mother on the wall. Since then, homesickness has become a small grave on that side. The grass in front of the grave is green and yellow, just like human gathering, parting, sadness and joy, one crop after another, and this hatred is endless.
Mother left, like all mothers who left their children in the world, and became the stars in the sky. She blinked again and again, telling me to cherish myself and biology, and to remember to take her heart and eyes with me in the future. Tell me to spend another thousand years of practice and waiting for an afterlife, once again into her arms, and continue my lingering attachment, attachment and affection.
This article is dedicated to my dearest mother.