but ...

but ...

However, grandpa has been away from us for 25 years, but I still think of him often, thinking of him sitting on the threshold of the courtyard door, smoking a cigarette, and feeling that he has never gone far.

The only one-inch photo left by grandpa has been kept by my brother. I know my brother's feelings for my grandfather, so I can't bear to ask him for that photo. I want to get one, but I think it will make me more emotionally isolated and separated from my grandfather. Let my grandfather keep it in mind! This is warmer and closer!

Grandpa's appearance has gradually blurred. When I can't remember clearly, I will flip through Luo Lizhong's oil painting "Father", because that bronze face full of ravines is very kind, and the expectant eyes are like grandpa's.

Grandpa is not my brother, nor my real grandfather, but we always think that grandpa is our real grandfather.

Grandparents we have never met have never had children since they got married, so we adopted our eldest son, who is over one year old, from his grandmother's sister's house to his grandfather's house. This eldest son is my father and his grandparents love him very much. How old is his father? When he goes out, his grandparents always carry him on his back to prevent his father's feet from touching the ground. However, the happy time of a family of three did not last long. Grandma drowned when she went to fetch water in front of the Dachuan Department. Lonely grandpa and his father lived together, raised him and became a people's teacher, but never got married again.

In my memory, grandpa was a busy man. He seldom talks. Because he talks so little, I even find him boring. When I was very young, my grandfather would always carry the burden of sugar to other places and earn a little money by selling gadgets and snacks to subsidize his family. Every time my grandfather goes out, he doesn't go home for more than ten days a month. A man in his sixties, who is so dull, naturally has a bad business, but still walks out of the house silently. I still don't know where he eats when he is alone. Where do you live? Now calm down and think about it. Do you really need to dig deeper? He is so honest and dull. He has never been to Dont Ask For Help. He earns a little money by himself. He has to think about his father who has just built a new house and is in debt everywhere. Where can he eat? Where do you live? I can't imagine.

It was like this for several years, until once, grandpa coughed badly, and dad didn't say anything to let him out. He said to my grandfather, "Don't go out again. He is also a man in his sixties. If you go out again, where will you land? " People will call me unfilial. Don't go out when you are old. "My father is also a man of few words. He seldom talks to his grandfather. It's really a lot to say so much at once. Grandpa felt his son's heart and reluctantly put down the sugar burden.

Grandpa doesn't go out, and his health is getting better, but after all, he can't be idle. During the day, he will help raise cattle collectively, which is half a job! In addition to raising cattle, grandpa will help his mother grow many vegetables and all kinds of vegetables in front of and behind the house. Grandpa will also pick vegetables, clean them up, wrap two or three straws with straw ropes and bundle them into small bundles. Therefore, his side often peels the remaining vegetables and arranges them into small piles of vegetables, brooms and dustpans. He basically does these jobs from morning till night every day, because he cleans up the dishes and his mother picks them up the next day and sells them at the gate of every village.

Grandpa doesn't have any entertainment. He doesn't like playing cards, listening to the radio or talking to people. His only hobby is smoking a few cigarettes. At first it was a pipe, and later it was changed to cigarettes. I clearly remember that at first there was no brand of raw cigarettes, and later it was changed to branded cigarettes, which were "Harvest" brands. It was the worst kind of cigarette at that time.

At night and on rainy days, grandpa would smoke and weave wicker baskets under dim kerosene lamps. You can sell the extra money except for your own use. His cracked hands look rough and rough, like some withered pine branches. But lesbian hands are so thick, powerful and dexterous. Many wicker baskets that women can't weave well can be woven beautifully and firmly in grandpa's hands, especially the closing is smooth and the shape can be different, such as the big wicker basket with pig grass and the small wicker basket with vegetables, which makes many veteran baskets full of praise. Grandpa has a strong hands-on ability. He can not only weave baskets and mats, but also install hoes and repair stools.

Grandpa has a great influence on me, and I have strong hands-on ability, which is also the mantle handed down to me by grandpa. In addition, grandpa's perseverance also deeply influenced me. When he was a teenager, he walked back to his hometown in northern Jiangsu from Shanghai alone without taking any means of transportation. He walked for eight days, covering eight or nine hundred miles by land, with an average of more than one mile per day 100, and he had to carry a luggage and a big barrel. What perseverance is this? Grandpa explained the meaning of "perseverance" to me with simple actions.

My brother and grandpa sleep in the same bed. Every night, the best thing for both of us must be to touch grandpa's soft calf to sleep, regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter. There is another thing in summer, that is, sleeping in mosquito nets in advance, waiting for grandpa to drive mosquitoes away, and waiting for grandpa to drive mosquitoes away with a big cattail fan, the whistling wind is really cool. At that time, there was no electric fan or air conditioner, and the cool feeling was particularly precious.

I will never forget watching the threshing floor with my grandfather when the crops are harvested. It was an autumn night. Grandpa couldn't stand me and always promised me to go to the fields with him. Guarding fields is mainly symbolic, because kind villagers will not do some wicked things to steal millet, but it is said that thieves have existed for a long time, so it is better to be cautious before the grain is "safely bagged"! When I arrived at the threshing floor, I ran all over the floor, but grandpa was using rice stalks to form our "home" tonight. I also rushed over to help grandpa build it together. "You went to the side, broke out in a sweat, and soon itched." Grandpa loves his grandson dearly, and it is rare to express his love directly. "dad! Nothing, you are old, let me help you. " I said I don't care. In our country, when I was a child, I was called "Grandpa", and when I was called "Dad", I changed my name to "Grandpa". Now we are all called "Dad" Dad, but "Grandpa" Dad hasn't changed. After growing up, I felt embarrassed for a while, and even humiliated for a while, especially after studying in a big city, I felt even more ignorant. But that's what it was called at that time, so calm and kind. Now I'm in my forties, and slowly, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. On the contrary, I am fluent, feel very open-minded, and think that is the original flavor.

I lay on a high grain pile, looking up at the Milky Way, the starry sky winked at me, and the evening breeze blew the fragrance of rice and flowers. At this time, I wish grandpa could tell me his past story! But grandpa doesn't like talking and can't tell stories, but it doesn't affect my good mood, because grandpa made me delicious fried soybeans. I counted the stars, chewed soybeans and thought about the children's thoughts. It was beautiful! I'm still immersed in it. What's more, besides delicious fried soybeans, grandpa's soft calves are still waiting for me!

Grandpa is very close to our two brothers. In a large vegetable field, grandpa will definitely set aside a small piece of land for my brother and me to grow cantaloupes in summer. After school, we will pick a small round cantaloupe from the cantaloupe field and hold it in our hands when wandering around the village, which will make many friends' eyes drop. Of course, the saliva will flow all over the floor. That's for sure. My brother and I were very proud at that time. Hold your head high to the sky. I know that behind our happiness is grandpa's smiling eyes.

Although we are children in winter and summer vacations, we also have tasks: my brother is responsible for cooking, and I have no specific responsibility, but I can't be idle and sweep the floor. This kind of light work belongs to me, except for a small amount of work, which is to be my brother's "follower". I will help him pull the bellows to dig rice. If it's really bad, my brother will slap him whenever he gets hot. To put it bluntly, he is a "follower". But when my brother is bored, I am absolutely useless. So if he is bored, he will complain to me at most, but he will not push the job to me.

When the weather is hot, my brother always loses his temper before making a fire, because his parents are not at home and no one cares about him! So, I am used to it. Whenever this kind of "music" is louder, grandpa always appears next to the cooker and whispers to his brother, "Come here! Come here! " My brother will jump out of the fire with joy. Grandpa wiped the mud on his hands, sat down unhurriedly and fiddled with the fireplace under the stove. The fireplace is burning brightly, and the fire in the fireplace burns grandpa's vicissitudes like a bronze statue.

There are too many examples of grandpa doing things for us. For example, in summer vacation, in order to exercise us, my parents will drive us to the field early in the morning and give us a weeding ground. 9. 10, the sun will make us shout, grandpa will put down his work, come and weed us, let us go home to enjoy the cool, and then do what he didn't do.

On a winter night, I didn't know what I was unhappy about, so I complained and looked sad. I just remembered to hum twice, and it was a little intermittent when I played. Grandpa is washing his feet. I am very angry with him. He took off his hat and looked at me. I know that if he is not very angry, he will keep silent.

But I still hummed and changed my playthings. This time, I got the wheel. Our wheelbarrow pushing grain leans against the wall, with the head down, the handle up and the wheels out, so I lean against the wall. I found that the wheels were spinning fast with a sense of speed, so the faster they turned, the faster they accelerated. But when I suddenly accelerated, the wheelbarrow fell down and the handle of the wheelbarrow hit grandpa's gray head hard. Grandpa "ouch", covering his head. The whole scene was quiet, and I was the only one who was stupefied and confused. The wheels of the overturned unicycle were turning "dully". Not far away, I heard my brother running over to scold me. I dare not say anything. Those chattering words have long since disappeared. I forgot how my brother scolded me. I just stared at my grandpa, hoping he just scratched his skin. After a while, grandpa came to his senses and tried it gently on his head. On the surface, there seems to be nothing serious wrong with it, but it still hurts, so I dare not ask, but it's nonsense. Grandpa staggered to his feet, took a step towards me, and held his hands high. I thought he would give me a beating, because it is normal for rural children to be naughty and beaten. But he didn't come near me again, and the overbearing hand didn't fall on me. He just changed the slap into a finger and said angrily, "Shall I tell your mother when they come back?" I know my mother has a big temper. I'll know when I come back that I didn't do something good and I won't be spared. I was too scared to speak, so I quietly hid aside.

Mom came back, and grandpa was obviously confused. He forgot to complain to his mother. He just picked vegetables with his feet and lay down early. The small pile of vegetables that were usually neatly packed disappeared, and only the scattered vegetables slumped to the ground listlessly. At night, I held my grandfather's soft calf and felt guilty.

Grandpa had a brother who died heroically before liberation. According to the people of the older generation, my "big grandfather" was very big at that time, with a "box gun" on his waist. Unfortunately, he just used it in crooked ways, became a traitor against the devil, and became our local "constant treasure". He is so bad that he doesn't care about the village at all.

One night, while chatting at the door, I asked my grandfather, "Dad! I heard the old man say that your brother, my Da Die, is very bad. How do you think? Do you know how he died later? " Grandpa didn't say anything for a long time He slowly pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took two breaths. The smoke from the kitchen rose before his eyes, and there was a layer of tears in his muddy eyes. Maybe I think too much, because grandpa's eyes are prone to tears when he meets the wind. Perhaps, that day, grandpa really remembered something. ......

Grandpa saw that I didn't speak, so he waited patiently. He twitched at the corner of his mouth, wiped the mud tears that had penetrated into the wrinkles, and slowly said to me, "This is not good for me." Then I seemed to be lost in thought again. "Then how did he die later?" I keep asking. I was a teenager then, really a teenager! Think about it, grandparents are dead, and young people lose their wives. This brother treated him badly and died young. In this world, there is no real blood relative, but I don't know how to properly open the scar in his heart.

Grandpa didn't mean to blame me at all. On the contrary, Nuo Nuo added in a low voice, "He was killed by the New Fourth Army. Some people say that they were stabbed to death by villagers. " It seems that he is the one who has done bad things, and he doesn't want his scandal to be discovered. Perhaps, he felt that his brother was still known by the younger generation after doing such a thing, and he was ashamed of his brother? Or what?

Just as I was thinking, my grandfather added, "Good death! Call him a traitor! " He stood up and walked to the track and field in the vegetable field outside the door. The glory of the setting sun poured down, and against the light, grandpa was swept across a golden aperture by the warm sunshine, and his thin figure looked so dazzling. Grandpa doesn't know a word, but his understanding grandfather makes me feel that although he is just an ordinary person, he is also so great!

1993 received the bad news of grandpa's death in the winter. I study in Nanjing, and my brother is a soldier in Nanjing. My brother rushed to my school to tell me the sad news. My brother also told me that the family meant to let him go back, and two people ran back and forth, wasting money and letting his eldest grandson go back to be a representative alone. I know my family is in financial difficulties, but I still strongly disagree. I have to go back.

One or two miles away from home, my brother and I took a shortcut from the winter wheat field, and running all the way rushed into the house. Grandpa's thin body stopped in the middle of the hall. According to superstition, when a person is dead, he can't open the cloth that covers the dead. However, I don't care. I don't know where I got the courage to uncover the white cloth covering my grandfather's face. I want to see my grandfather again, because I know that after reading this, I will say goodbye to my grandfather!

Grandpa has been in good health, how could he die suddenly? I can't figure it out. As long as I can remember, grandpa hasn't taken any medicine, except for a cough, and he is basically not sick. I asked my mother, "Dad, it's okay. Why did you go? " My mother told the news of my grandfather's death.

Two months ago, grandpa's leg was swollen and thin, and he didn't want to eat. After being sent to the clinic for more than ten days, it still didn't get better. It's not good for people to see. Father wanted to send Grandpa to the hospital for treatment, but Grandpa was adamant, saying that if there was no money at home, don't lend him money and spend money blindly. The doctor at the clinic said that it wouldn't be much use if you didn't transfer to a big hospital. If you don't transfer to another hospital, go home and cook something delicious for him. Grandpa said that both grandchildren are in their teens and twenties, so don't waste money on him while waiting for money. Grandpa is not the master for life. The only owner in this life is to give up his own treatment.

Hearing this, my tears are like broken beads. I understand. Actually, Grandpa is fine. If he is sent to a slightly larger hospital, he will live well as long as he is willing to spend money. He just doesn't want to drag us down. My brother also cried like a crybaby. My brother is older and more sensible than me. My brother is in his twenties and his future is uncertain. He thinks grandpa did it directly because of him. Therefore, my brother has been carrying his guilt. Actually, I'm not? Later, my brother made contributions in the army, went to a military school and got a job. My brother is always the first to tell my grandfather the good news in heaven.

Grandpa was very talkative before he died, and his mother said that he had finished what he had never said in his life in those two days. Grandpa said that he was content to think that his father could be filial to him all his life and provide for his old age. He is satisfied that his two grandchildren are heading for the future, one is studying in a "university" and the other is working as a monitor, with remarkable achievements. Considering that he lived to the age of 75 and didn't suffer anything, compared with those relatives who left him early, he was content.

Grandpa left us spiritual wealth. Only my father and our two generations of guilt, grandpa can no longer notice.

Grandpa left, walking the distance between life and death. I often think, is grandpa's life meaningful? In books and on TV, we see vigorous heroes, great writers, great scientists and all kinds of celebrities. Their lives are full of brilliant light. Grandpa is just a grassroots, and his life is dull. What is the meaning of his life? I think it should be attributed to his diligence and simplicity, his gentleness and kindness, his open-mindedness and firmness, his profound understanding of righteousness, his protection and care for his family, and his selfless dedication to his family after burning the last ray of light!

Two years later, during the Spring Festival, we all gathered at my grandmother's house to reunite with my uncles and aunts. During the dinner, someone said to his father, "My uncle has left, and there is no one at home. You can go back to your last name and share our last name! " The father thought for a moment and said, "I won't change my child's surname." Let's see what the children mean later! " "

Many years have passed, and my brother and I have our own children. We both insist on grandpa's surname, and we still write the child's surname as grandpa's surname. I want to tell grandpa: "We are your grandchildren! Is the person closest to you. We will always take your surname and be your grandson in the next life. We thank grandpa for feeding and nourishing our family all his life! "

Tomb-Sweeping Day is here again. It's time to go to grandpa's grave. I think I will go to grandpa's grave this time, and I will tell him what I said!