So grandma seems within reach.
She is wearing a black velveteen coat, black trousers with black leggings, a pair of exquisite black velvet shoes with three inches of golden lotus on them. Except for the white socks and snow-white hair on her feet, she is black all over. Spring breeze blows in an instant, and apricot flowers slowly fall on grandma's hairline and shoulders. At this time, grandma is always adding food and vegetables to the pigs in the pen, and at the same time, she keeps saying "Ho, Ho ...". She used to use this voice to stop us from being naughty.
Maybe I prefer my grandmother standing on the steps of the back door, or waving her hand on the overgrown path behind the house where only one foot can walk, saying, my nephew is a dog, and he will go, go, go after eating! Shouting and waving, we walked down the pavilion slope, crossed the earth bridge and turned around in front of the river temple. Grandma is still waving and shouting that sentence, because there has always been a warm current in her ear.
Grandma's house is three miles away from mine. Going to grandma's house is like a series of distant doors. When I was a child, I used to play with my brother in taniguchi and slide down a steep slope. The wild flowers on the roadside are swaying in the soft wind, which makes people fondle. They were picked one by one, colorful in their hands, and seemed to bloom with charming brilliance in their eyes. While waiting for the eyes to cluster with Ma Lian, I unconsciously kicked my brother into grandma's back door.
The back door of grandma's house is always open. As soon as my brother and I walk in the door, we always shout at grandma. At this time, no matter what grandma is busy with, she should put down her work, point to the chicken nest with a smile and say, go and get an egg. There is a pepper tree in the yard. Grandma tiptoed to reach for some pepper leaves. The eggs she took out were absolutely hot. Grandma gently squeezed them out of my hand, then bent down and rolled on my brother's and mine cheeks.
By the stove, grandma cut a small mouth for the egg and slowly flowed into the small pot. The small pot rice seasoned with pepper leaves is ready. Grandma sat by, watching us empty the bowl and happily filled it for us. Out of the back door, grandma chased after her and shouted, my nephew is a dog. Go after eating, go, go!
On the way, many times we will meet the scalpers who circle. Cleisthenes's cries greeted the sunset glow, and the village head in the distance was filled with smoke. Later, I saw "soft smoke" in A Dream of Red Mansions, and the silver-red one is also called "Xia Ying yarn". Such a beautiful name can't help but remind people of coming back from grandma's house at dusk when I was a child.
At that time, I ran to my grandmother's house as soon as I had something to do, and didn't go for half an hour. I seldom see my grandfather. I just saw grandma's big barn and a small chariot full of food; Shovel plowshare All kinds of farm tools are placed on the ground against the wall. The hemp rope tied in the pocket hangs in the corner of the earth wall, which is also an eyebrow eye Shu Lang; Grandpa's yellow rubber shoes stood in the corner next to the steps. At first glance, the soil is very good.
Grandpa walks like a fly when he is not free. At night, when grandpa washed his feet, he saw that his legs were wrapped in a thin plastic sheet. In winter, the plastic sheeting faded and hot air came out of his legs. Grandpa's leg is incurable.
When I woke up in the morning, Grandpa's bed rolled to one side properly. Sometimes I can hear grandpa drinking water and eating dry food, and I can only see the morning light through the window. Speaking of my mother, she said that grandpa got up early to camp crops for half a day, and dry food was a meal with water! I remember a new house was built at home, and I heard my grandfather working in the yard in his sleep.
Grandpa has a high head, a straight back and a strong body. Doing farm work in the field and supplementing physical strength by eating. At that time, there was nothing good. I remember that when my mother cooks, she often leaves some in the pot, and the dry food is cut into pieces and placed by the stove. It seems that my mother always prepares for my grandfather, so that he may get something to eat in time when he comes home.
People who grow food in the soil will not let them spoil it easily. I often stand in front of my grandfather and carefully spit potato skins into his bowl.
A few things need not be said at that time, but it is meaningful to think of them today.
That year, my second aunt's family had not moved to the city and was in the same village as my grandfather. After visiting relatives, my cousin opened the drawer to show off his lucky money-a thick stack, saw many new ones, and vaguely remembered several children looking around.
After that, I played at my grandmother's house, and my cousin visited me several times, which means I lost one yuan. I don't know where his money went. I feel wronged and can't explain it clearly, so I am very sad.
That night, grandma hugged me to sleep. She stroked my hand and said, my child is a blessing when he grows up! At that time, I was puzzled, but I thought about it for many years and it was more profound.
The next day, I played in the alley with my friends. I saw my grandfather coming out of the gate of the supply and marketing cooperative, holding a light blue plastic pencil case with a magnet in it. That style of pencil box has been my dream for a long time. When school started, my father had promised to buy me one. Grandpa put the pencil-box under his arm and went home. Grandpa has a large group of grandchildren, and he doesn't think much about who to buy it for. Go back for lunch at noon. Grandpa put the pencil-box in front of me. I saw a little monkey hanging on the elephant's long nose.
You can't be alive without leaving some twists and turns. Without your knowledge, your original life has already deviated from the direction.
Besides my second uncle, there are five brothers and sisters. My mother is the closest. My mother has been ill. As long as I can remember, my father wouldn't let me move and sent us to my grandparents. For many years, it has been a common practice to go to grandma's house for three days to send it east and west and wash it. What the hell went wrong? Later, the sadness between relatives approached step by step.
Maybe it's the distance! There is a saying: relatives should be distant relatives and neighbors should build high walls. Very reasonable.
By the time the accident happened, I was an adult and my father was retired at home.
In the Millennium season, our parents still took us to help grandpa beat walnuts. Grandpa carried a cloth bag, and Dad still carried a cloth bag and followed him closely. My grandfather squatted on the ground and ate a bag of cigarettes for a while, but my father couldn't catch up with the physique of an old man who was nearly eighty years old, and he couldn't lift it when he put it down. Whenever I watch my father turn around, I put my bag on my shoulder and stand close to the mountain to catch my breath. That mountain road is very long and steep, and it takes three or four breaks to get home.
During the autumn harvest, my parents took us to help grandpa with the autumn harvest as usual. Grandpa's kindness and smile in the past are gone, and his stern and speechless face is left for us to come and go.
After that, my father often squatted under the eaves or smoked sullenly on the threshold, sometimes with a wry smile, and his face was full of helplessness.
Once I met my grandfather on a long-distance bus. I went to say hello to him and he told my neighbor that he didn't know who I was. After arriving at the station, my grandfather carried two brooms and a bowl brush on his shoulder. He will go to my second aunt's house and take a taxi to take my grandfather outside her house. I'd rather believe that my 80-year-old grandfather doesn't know me.
The last time I saw grandma was in the autumn when my father was seriously ill. In those years, my grandmother was old and the back door was not often opened. My mother and I came to the front door, which was bolted inward. Through the crack of the door, I can see grandma sitting under the window wearing reading glasses, and the neighbors are alarmed by the sound of knocking at the door. But when I saw my grandmother looked up at the door and bowed her head to continue sewing, she was deaf and could not hear anything outside. My uncle and grandfather work in the fields, and she often shuts herself in the house alone. Later, I took off my silk scarf and put it under the door, shaking it up and down. Grandma finally came out. She said: I vaguely heard someone shouting, and the voice sounded far away.
It's like coming to her when I was a child, unpacking boxes and pulling cabinets to find food for me, but I couldn't stop it, and I didn't think it was suitable for an adult like me until I took out a bunch.
Then he pulled me to the door, lifted the bamboo curtain, pointed to an apple tree at the second door and asked me to pick apples.
The ladder is beside the tree, and the apples on the tree are red and ripe. Hardly had I climbed the wooden ladder when I heard grandpa's cough. It turns out that my grandfather has sent the feces back to the field. Seeing grandpa's expression, I slipped down the wooden ladder in an instant and turned a blind eye to our arrival.
Grandma stood at the door, anxiously pointing to the apples on the tree, blaming me for not picking and eating! I never thought that this would be the last time I saw my grandmother on earth.
My father died in late autumn that year, and grandpa came to my house on crutches on the third day after burying his father. He was so sad that he couldn't control himself.
Grandma left us in a hurry two months later.
Forty days after grandma left, grandpa left quietly, so quietly that when my mother was sick and confused, she kept going to see grandpa and gave him dry food, saying that grandma left and grandpa had no dry food to eat.
Relatives died one after another, and the grievances disappeared. Every year, Qingming winds its way on the winding mountain road, looking for clusters of apricot flowers and standing under the tree, just like in grandma's yard many years ago.