Missing Spring Prose (1) Spring has come, but I haven't put on winter cotton trousers yet.
Yesterday was Tomb-Sweeping Day, and both my aunts came back from Datong to visit grandma's grave. In the evening, I sleep with my grandfather; My aunt sleeps on the kang, my aunt is next to my aunt, I am next to my aunt, and my grandfather sleeps on the kang. I remember when I was twenty-one years old, two aunts came. I didn't want to go home, and because my grandfather's kang was too small, I let my grandmother hold me and sleep all night. I am grandma's grandson in bed, so no matter how old I am, as long as I am in grandma's bed, I will always feel warm and not shy. Last night, I slept in the place where my grandmother used to sleep, but no one patted my ass gently through the trousers under the quilt. ...
I know I'll never see my grandma again in this world, but I'm not ready to say goodbye to her completely. So, when my father and aunt were going to the grave, I didn't go. It is said that my legs and feet are inconvenient. In fact, I can't face grandma's grave calmly. But the reality reminds me again and again that grandma is dead, waiting for Tomb-Sweeping Day's arrival.
Since grandma left, I have not seen the scene where you are going. No matter whether someone is going to have a funeral on TV or in the village, they can't help crying. I can't even hear people talking about those past experiences. Not long ago, the actress Xu in The Reader talked about her grandmother and heard her read an excerpt from Mr. Shi Tiesheng's Grandma's Stars. Unconsciously, my tears soaked the pillow towel. ...
Tomb-Sweeping Day A few days ago, I used a pair of useless hands that were not under the command of cerebellum, and also folded some "defective" ingots for my grandmother. My second aunt even praised me for my good folding! My second aunt said, "Grandma must know my baby's heart." I said, "If my grandmother receives these gold ingots, she must know that I folded them ..." In fact, folding gold ingots is also a kind of sustenance for missing relatives!
And my guilt and regret for my grandmother have never been in the language. The so-called confession is hard to say. ...
All right, let's stop here. I want to use this passage to commemorate my grandmother Shi.
Miss of Spring Prose (2) The spring breeze in April brushed my face, the catkin petals fluttered all over the sky with the wind, and the gentle warm wind slapped my melancholy face. I stood by the stream and watched the blue sky change. The girl across the stream floated around like a charming cloud. Between my fingers, there is the warmth of honeysuckle with a faint fragrance, winding and hovering. I vaguely saw that the girl's hand gently drew a half-arc circle in the air, and the unknown petals slipped into her palm, unfolded with the girl's slender fingers gently opened for the second time, and the delicate petals were blooming, and the petals that were about to wither with the wind were still proud, beautiful and gentle under the blue sky and white clouds.
Clouds are silent, winds are traceless, flowers are silent, and I am silent. Encountered this petal rain in spring and April, I am eager to sleep happily on the stone. My emotions are vague and short-lived. Perhaps this is an eternal romance, an eternal lingering in the ends of the earth with the wind. After the crystal tears in the corner of my eyes fell, a pure' flower of love' blossomed in the clouds, fluttering and dancing, nervously but lovingly welcoming the heartbreak and determination of that place.
Clouds give petals, breeze is a smart sword, my feelings are dull in the wanton and noisy world of mortals, love ripples helplessly, and tears fill my eyes. My eyes see your smiling face, just like a cloud formed by rain in the wind. It is you who robbed me of the sadness of my youth in the years and vicissitudes. The fleeting time is "no anger, no resentment, no sorrow and no sigh". The decadent sound in the wind is if you cry in the clouds. It's windy in spring, and tears are floating in the clouds. In the traceless wind, clouds entwine like the Buddha's crooning. And the tenderness in my hand dries your tears, and finally turns into a light wind and clouds, floating in the stream wearing stars, Dai Yue, time and tide wait for no man ...
Looking vaguely at the curve of the girl's palm winding across the stream, Merlin's eyes gradually blurred. Perhaps it is because of the debauchery and uneasiness of alternating youth and confusion, the sky is high and the clouds are light, as light as dust, and it has become an ink dream. By the stream, the spring breeze in April is crystal clear, and colorful flowers stand spotless in the dark water. Take off the petals that you want to put in your heart, dip in ink and write, change lightly in the air, put pen to paper with your hand, and your heart will fly freely in your blue sky. Draw, tick, carve and dye; Joy, anger, sadness and joy. I walk in your scenery, and you are in my world. And the tears of spring that fall at will are just like my impetuous heart. I soak you in the gorgeous rice paper on earth, and you will never leave without a book.
Running in the hurried spring, I opened the two ends of the years, and you and I stood proudly on the horizon. We don't have to deliberately think about those people who come and go. Through other years, there are those flowers in your life and mine. The spring breeze is accompanied by colorful clouds, and the mountains and rivers are warm and cold. In spring, I only describe in detail a pair of picturesque mountains and rivers that I yearn for you. The spring breeze is bright and cloudy, and I scatter the petals of youth to decorate my heart. A cloud in spring, passing through autumn water and winter, stops at the green Jiang Nanan of the stream and gently combs the lingering willow wind.
In this colorful spring, I prepare a glass of light red wine for you and raise a glass to reward our bitter expectation of spring. Yingying smiled and forgot the bitterness in the world of mortals. When we are on the edge of the ends of the earth, dating in spring, when you and I laugh and cry. If spring is buckled with a beating heart, it can't bear the changeable changes. Please promise me, let me paint you in a pair of ink-and-wash fishing boats, sing late, release your heart, have free wind and clouds to accompany you, unload your sorrow and welcome wine.
The mood turns from thick to light, or the wine lamp is thick or clear, and the bitterness of joys and sorrows slowly infiltrates into the trajectory of spring, without sunshine, rain and dew, sorrow and resentment. In the spring when the colors are always appropriate, the breeze is your passion, the floating clouds are the heart that calmly looks at the world of mortals, love and hate are the wind that quietly blows between the ink branches in spring, and sorrow is the inky floating clouds engraved in the rendering of years.
Walking in the ink Shan Lan in spring, I can see your smiling face like a cloud, if there is something, if there is nothing. Smiling, the years are like the wind, full of petals, a cool Mo Chi inkstone, a sad song, a river full of lovesickness! !
Miss Spring Prose (3) In this beautiful spring, when I wrote this topic, my heart was trembling gently. ...
-Preface
1
"When I Ask a Hundred Questions" says: "When everything grows, it is pure and bright, hence the name Qingming." Qingming, both the atmosphere of enjoying spring and the sentimental feelings of pursuing the future with caution; There are fresh and bright vivid scenes, and there are sad and sour tears about where you will go.
Qingming is a sad note in spring. Every time I touch it, a string of sad melodies will flow out of my heart.
It's still far from Qingming, and we have buried our father. Due to local customs, it is impossible to visit the graves of dead relatives in the first year. The 18th day of the first month is also the100th anniversary of my father's death. On that day, in addition to relatives who could not come, more than 20 people paved new soil, burned incense, burned paper and delivered clothes for their father. Amid firecrackers and rising smoke, I seem to see my father again, smiling as usual. ...
In March, the grass grows and the warblers fly, the spring blooms and the swallows return. In a clearing in front of my father's grave, pear blossoms are white, peach blossom powder, and wicker is green. Not far away, a stream runs from east to west, through golden rape flowers, through strawberries with little red lanterns, through lush wheat seedlings ... Ding-ding, heading for the distance. On that day, the sky was blue, clear and high, and white clouds blossomed. Several nephews are chasing laughter and frolicking like a flock of birds. One hundred days later, two nephews are still crying deeply. Children's sadness always comes and goes quickly, and their world laughs more than tears.
We each poured a glass of wine, gave our father half and drank the rest. In the future, I can only drink with my father like this. He drinks inside and we drink outside. I don't know, my father, who has been a heavy drinker all his life, has a drink every day in the other world. In another world, is my father still so carefree? We have been chatting with my father outside, telling some childhood stories: my brother played truant and stole his neighbor's sugar cane; My sister was afraid of being beaten and climbed onto the roof. A short brother shakes bamboo for the New Year. My sister wore bell-bottoms for the first time, and her father kicked her out of the door ... We just kept talking and talking until tears overflowed our eyes. Finally, we told our father that we are doing well, healthy and safe, happy, suitable for all ages, please rest assured. I think my father must have said a lot to us in there, but we couldn't hear him.
Too soon. It's been a hundred days since father left us. On his grave, the grass has sprouted, the flowers are in full bloom, and several small butterflies are flying back and forth. These little creatures come as scheduled every spring, growing, flowering and flying. It's just that my father is buried in the ground forever. No matter how lively the spring outside is, even the earth-shattering spring thunder can't wake him up. He has long been integrated with the earth. Decades later, like our father, we will be unable to carry too many dirty and heavy bodies with weak wings, and will keep falling, falling into the shadows, falling into the abyss and falling into the darkness. Because only the earth can welcome our rebirth and our death.
Mother didn't come, although she knew the exact place where her father was buried, and even with her eyes closed, she could find the place accurately. The loss of her father left her with irreplaceable thoughts and pains, even her own children. In fact, we don't want her to come, for fear that she will be sad. However, our thoughts are nothing more than self-deception. Where is there no smell left by dad in mom's room? I can't imagine how many sleepless nights, my mother touched my father's sleeping place again and again, the chair he sat in, the kettle he used, the teacup he drank, the crutch he leaned on, the pipe he smoked ... Then, I looked at my father in the photo frame deeply, looked at him silently, told him silently and cried silently. Did we meet him when we were children?
Since my father left, my mother often sat there in a daze, indulging in the past and looking in a trance. I remember one time, my mother and I were chatting and suddenly stood up and said, it's time for your father to take medicine, or gout would be unbearable. I burst into tears and shouted "Auntie!" The noise was so loud that my mother woke up at once, sat down again and murmured, Oh, your father left, left ... At that moment, I felt that my mother was much older and her hair was almost white. All along, the pain of the body has never been painful. It is difficult for the body to perceive and feel the process of loss. Only the heart can keenly perceive where the heart is, where the heart is, and where the heart is observed. When does it stop hurting?
In order not to make my mother so lonely, I took her to my home, chatted with her, went for an outing and played. In those days, maybe because of the weather, I got angry, had an oral ulcer, and it was very difficult to swallow. I eat very little at every meal. My mother sat next to me, and she was the only one at the dinner table. She looks very anxious and at a loss, and she can't wait to feed me a few mouthfuls as she did when she was a child. At that moment, I didn't look away, quietly wiped away tears, and then smiled at my mother's most beautiful smile. I can't lose my mother without my father. Because, in this cold and hypocritical world, you are not anyone's treasure except your parents, even those who say love and care, exchange hearts and make blind dates.
This spring is still warm, because I still have my mother.
2
Spring comes early in Chengdu. When it is still snowing in some northern cities, the highest temperature in Chengdu has soared to more than 20 degrees. A touch of beauty has quietly spread in this nature, all the flowers are blooming rashly, and the world suddenly becomes colorful.
Therefore, this spring, I don't want to miss the best flowering season, and let myself fly from here to there like a busy butterfly.
One day, a man walked in Meilin, only to find that cherry blossoms were blooming brightly and falling petals were everywhere on the grass. Cherry blossoms have the characteristics of blooming and falling. These fallen petals are complete and incomplete; Some are fresh and some are old. I don't know what happened that stormy night yesterday, what kind of fierce fighting happened between heaven and earth, and who killed them? How did they stubbornly resist and fight? These petals, in the mottled sunlight, I can clearly see their tears.
In the cherry blossom garden, some people are taking pictures, some are fighting, some are whispering, some are closing their eyes, some are secretly sad ... people will not be sad because of the departure of a flower, and everything will go on as usual. Laugh, cry, go on.
I quietly spread my hands and picked up the fallen cherry blossoms. A cherry blossom landed in my palm, and she just lay quietly in my staring eyes. The white petals are pink, still crystal clear and elegant, spotless and extremely transparent, and there is no bitterness of "flowers bloom and flowers fall all over the sky, and the soul disappears and the fragrance is broken". I can't help but sigh that the stunner in this flower can interpret the fleeting good times so thoroughly and so spotless! Life is like this, but it is also a short and fragrant life.
In the rain, I suddenly remembered a little girl
Last year, at the same time, I sat in the pavilion and watched a beautiful cherry blossom dance. A girl of seventeen or eighteen ran into the cherry blossom garden like a gust of wind. Her face was full of excitement and surprise. She whirled in the sakura rain, shouting excitedly. A white dress, without any modification, is pure white. Long black hair is so beautiful and elegant that it sets off the pale skin color like cherry blossoms. Black and white, the two purest colors in the world, blend perfectly with her. She gives the impression that she is not simple and elegant, but holy! She is as holy as an angel. Cherry blossoms falling from the treetops danced gracefully around her. The smile on her lips is as transparent as an angel's wings in the sun. ...
Behind her is a middle-aged woman, I guess it should be her mother, because they look alike. Her mother looked at her daughter quietly, never leaving her eyes, fearing that once she left, her daughter would disappear into a vacuum. Her eyes are full of pity and disappointment, and even deep sadness. I heard her faint sigh, and I walked over and walked beside her.
Why sigh? You should be happy to have such a beautiful and lovely daughter. I don't understand. Ask her.
My daughter is in the late stage of leukemia, because she has never found a matching bone marrow. Maybe this is her last spring. When she said this, her eyes began to turn red.
Somehow, my heart ached.
How can she be so young and beautiful? How I wish I had heard wrong.
Does she know? Are you still in the dark? I asked.
No, she knows everything.
Her mother told me that at first, her daughter didn't know it and thought it was just a common disease. Later, the incidence rate became higher and higher, and the number of hospitalizations increased. My daughter began to check online and knew that she had leukemia. My daughter is very sensible, but she still comforts her, telling her not to be sad, saying that everyone will receive an invitation from God, but God is too fond of her and wants to pick her up early.
"She just graduated from high school this year, and her grades have been among the best in the school. She is the monitor, the president of the student union, and likes singing, dancing and writing poems. Isn't such an excellent daughter too jealous? She has never been to college, never been in love, never enjoyed life, and will leave us so soon. God is unfair, unfair ... "She said, squatting down and sobbing.
I don't know how to comfort her. I feel so pale and powerless in any language.
At that time, her daughter came and hugged her gently:
"Mom, your daughter will live forever. Didn't I sign a voluntary organ donation? At that time, you will see your daughter come back to life in others. Don't cry, mom, I promise to be your daughter in my next life, okay? "
I watched the mother and daughter embrace each other and burst into tears.
Now, it's another year when cherry blossoms bloom and another year when cherry blossoms fall.
What happened to that beautiful girl? Will there be a miracle?
I picked up the petals on the ground and threw them into the air. ...
This is my blessing to her, whether she is in heaven or on earth.