My grandfather has been gone for half a year.

Let's see, grandpa has been gone for half a year. A very important person in my life has left me for half a year.

In May of this year, my father called me and said, "Grandpa doesn't recognize anyone, not even your aunt. It should be this week. Are you coming back to see him for the last time, or will you come back then? "

I choked and said, "I took the overnight train home."

Grandpa has been critically ill many times in the past ten years, and I thought I was ready to say goodbye at any time. Finally I found that I didn't have the courage to accept it.

This farewell rehearsal has taken too long.

Aunt said, "The year when your grandfather began to get sick was the year of the rat, and this year is the year of the dog, which has been 1 1 year."

I still remember that it was 2007, my sophomore year, which happened to be the Spring Festival. At 6: 45 every morning, I take an insulated lunch box and wait for the earliest bus to go to the hospital by the roadside.

The street lamp is hung with a super-large knot, and it is prosperous and festive all the way. That's someone else's happiness, not mine.

Grandpa is covered with pipes. Electrocardiogram, oxygen cylinder, ureter, bottle after bottle of medicine, all kinds of cold machines maintain a warm body.

I stepped into the door of the ward with breakfast. My father turned red and whispered to me, "The doctor gave me a notice of critical illness." At that time, my head exploded and I didn't know how to react. The footsteps of nurses coming and going in the corridor and the conversation between family members and patients are obviously close at hand, but it seems that it will take a long time to reach the eardrum.

Fortunately, that time, the danger was over. It's just that grandpa's body will never recover. At first, I had to go to the hospital once or twice a year, but gradually it became three or four times, five times and six times a year. ...

02

Last year's Eve, I gave my grandfather lucky money. My blessing words are: "Good health and good luck."

In February this year, I took the lucky money to his bed, but I couldn't say such a blessing. I think the so-called happiness can be obtained through hard work. But for grandpa, "good health" is impossible.

This long-term disease gradually consumed the energy in his body.

Just like when I was a child, the guava tree raised in the yard grew to four meters high and looked lush. In summer, it still bears fruit as usual. You can cut it open and see several worms 1 cm long crawling in the sweet flesh. No matter how much pesticide is used, it can't be cured.

Grandpa has no complete organs in his body. When I was young, I smoked a lot and my lungs turned black. The heart and kidneys are not good either. Diabetes, hypertension, rheumatism ... diseases are everywhere, all of which have got into grandpa's body. The medicine in the hospital can only temporarily suppress the pain and cannot be cured.

When he is in better spirits and can sit on the bed, I handed him the red envelope and said, "Grandpa, I will pay a New Year call to you." He took it and said, "OK". After that, he fell asleep again, even if he kept the posture of "sitting", it was too tired for him.

After the Spring Festival, I set out to work in Guangzhou. A few days later, my father called and said that grandpa was in hospital again.

This time it is more serious. He was hallucinating. Reaching out in the void, as if to catch something. I kept muttering to myself, as if I were talking to someone. After a while, I sat up fumbling and asked him what he wanted to do. He said he would put on his coat and go home.

At noon, I fed him half a bowl of porridge and began to fall asleep. Until 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the nurse checked the blood sugar and found that the blood sugar value was only 3. 1, which was too low. The nurse said, "wake him up quickly and have something to eat."

I can't wake up. Grandpa is asleep and can't hear our call.

I also asked the nurse to check and found that Grandpa's heart rate fluctuated from 30 to 200. The normal heart rate is 60- 100.

That night, mom and dad spent the night in the hospital.

We are all wondering, this time, is grandpa asleep forever?

We even said that sleeping like this and never waking up is actually good for grandpa. After all, grandpa has suffered from illness for too long these years. He's really in pain.

Grandpa once told me about his third brother who died in his sleep, "how easy it is for third brother to die!" Drink a bowl of porridge, feel sleepy, and tell your grandson that you want to sleep. So I fell asleep and went. " There is a faint envy in grandpa's tone.

I have seen grandpa cry when he was tortured by illness. He cried and asked, "Why is it so difficult to be a man?"

The doctor gave grandpa two injections of medicine. After a long time, he woke up. 2065438+In March 2008, Grandpa survived again.

03

20/kloc-April, 2008, Guangzhou, I was still thinking about going home for my grandfather's birthday next month, putting him in a wheelchair and taking him out for a walk.

The moment I got home, I knew this idea was impossible. Grandpa is too weak to stay in bed all day.

I can't take him anywhere

04

2065438+May 2008. I got home at one o'clock in the middle of the night.

When I walked into his door and saw him, my breath froze.

A blanket covers his stomach, and his legs are as thin as dry wood. The bulging beer belly has collapsed and the full cheeks are sunken.

I looked at him and didn't know this skinny old man in a trance. My grandfather, actually.

I held his hand, my throat choked and my head went blank.

Dad said to grandpa, "Dad, cm is back. Open your eyes and look at her. "

Grandpa struggled to open his left eye. I quickly approached him and asked him, "Grandpa, grandpa, do you know me?"

Grandfather's eyes were cloudy and vacant, as if he were looking at a stranger. He shook his head. Frown and closed his left eye.

My head exploded and my heart suddenly contracted. Grandpa, don't you know me?

I hold grandpa's hand, cold and stiff. I expect him to shake hands with me. However, no. His hands are flat.

I remember a sentence I once read. When a person is born, he clenched his fist tightly. When a person wants to leave, he opens his palm and takes nothing away. This is called "letting go".

In the room, there was only the hum of the oxygen machine and grandpa's heavy breathing. He has difficulty breathing, and it is not enough to supply oxygen only by the oxygen tube in his nose. His lips are slightly open, take a deep breath. Inhale and exhale. Occasionally, two short sobs came from deep in my throat.

Dad went out to smoke. I stayed in grandpa's room.

Grandpa spoke, vague. I leaned over and asked him, "What?"

He repeated with his mouth closed and his eyes open, but he closed his eyes and closed his lips with difficulty.

I can't hear most of them clearly, but I can hear only one sentence clearly. He said, "I'm going to die. He frowned and repeated, "I'm going to die. "

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to alleviate his panic and helplessness. I don't know how to deal with my panic and helplessness.

We are all trapped in the sea. It's just that I can still see the coast when I look back. Grandpa has been swaying in the vast sea and has no direction.

All I can do is hold his hand. Then I buried my head, afraid to let him see tears coming out of my eyes. For him, tears may be a prophecy of death and a shock to him who is about to leave.

The next morning, I stewed sparerib soup, filled half a bowl of sparerib soup and added half a bowl of rice porridge soup. Two kinds of impurities. Every hour or two, he scoops up a third of the weight with a spoon and pours it in from the gap between his slightly opened lips.

Only then did I know that there is a stage between life and death, which is called waiting for death. Pain is unbearable and inevitable.

Grandpa fell asleep deeply. The frowning brows spread out. The heavy gasps turned into grunts. Called him several times, for a long time, he let out a faint "hmm" from the depths of his throat.

I stood in front of grandpa's bed and watched his chest slowly rise and fall. Suddenly I have a very strange feeling. It seems that grandpa's soul has left this body. All I'm guarding is a corpse. This feeling is so weird, but there is a certain certainty.

On the third day, grandpa's chest stopped fluctuating. Dad called him beside him, but he never responded.

The day grandpa left was his birthday.

Before the funeral, grandpa was put in an ice coffin and we went to see him every day. He put on a clean navy shroud and fell asleep peacefully. The disease has tortured him for more than ten years, and now it has completely disappeared.

Sister-in-law said that some old people had crooked eyes and crooked mouths when they left. Grandpa's face is so complete and serene, which is a blessing.

Magnolia blooms just right. The elder sister-in-law picked a lot from the tree and put it on the table. Light floral fragrance, mixed with sandalwood.

05

Once watching the variety show "Life I yearn for", Stephy visited the mushroom house and asked Mr. Huang to cook a dish of smoked fish. This is a dish that her grandfather used to cook before his death. Teacher Huang made a big pot full of smoked fish. Stephy took the first bite and cried. She said that grandpa had never eaten this dish since he left.

My grandfather has no special skills. Grandpa got tuberculosis more than ten years ago. After that, he ate separately with us. Never ate at the same table again.

Dad fried the food and divided it into two parts. One is ours and the other is grandpa's.

Grandpa likes to eat fried chicken with lobster sauce, which is made by that small shop near the playground in our village. The meat is soft and the soy sauce is delicious. Before he moves chopsticks, he always lets us children eat first and put more.

When I was six or seven years old, my family was poor, and I had only food and no meat for three meals. Grandpa works as a security guard in the factory, including meals. Sometimes, he will come back before dinner and take me to the security booth. When he comes back from the canteen.

There is no meat in his lunch box either. But there are fried dried beans. The skin is crisp, but the inside is tender and smooth. I like fried dried bean curd, which was given to me by my grandfather.

06

Most of the reasons why I went home in recent years are that grandpa is in hospital again.

After work on Friday, I took the night train, got home at 1: 00 in the middle of the night, slept for a few hours, and went to the hospital to take over from my father and look after my grandfather.

Since grandpa left, this scene has often appeared in my mind: I walked into the ward and saw grandpa sitting on the bed with his back against the pillow. I called him "grandpa", and he turned his head, his eyes lit up and answered me angrily. You look in good spirits.

After this scene flashed, it was followed by a raging tide.

Since then, I have never seen my grandfather again, sitting in front of the hospital bed and sighing at me with anger.

07

Three generations in my family, no one eats the bowl of rice with words on it. Today, I can eat with a pen. Enlightenment comes from grandpa.

Grandpa tells all kinds of strange stories vividly.

For example, grandpa and dad are working at the foot of the mountain, and a big snake comes down from the upper reaches of the mountain. Together, they hacked the serpent to death with a hoe, carried it back to their hometown and shared it with their neighbors.

For example, when Grandpa joined the army as a soldier when he was young, a comrade-in-arms woke up in the middle of the night and saw his dead wife sitting in front of the mirror dressing up. The old man in the village said his wife was short of money. Let him burn some paper money for his wife, and then he never saw her again.

My childhood is plain, just like a blank sheet of paper. Only those strange stories told by grandpa are the rich colors on white paper.

08

I remember when I was three or four years old. I rode on grandpa's back and shouted "drive, drive". Grandpa cooperated like a horse and ran all over the hall behind my back.

At that time, the family contracted a fish pond. In order to prevent people from stealing fish, grandpa often lives in a thatched cottage by the fish pond.

I remember one day in midsummer, my grandfather and I sat by the fish pond, each holding a fishing rod and fishing. My feet are dangling by the fish pond, and I don't know how long I have been sitting there. I asked my grandfather impatiently, "Why aren't there any fish yet?"

Grandpa explained humorously, "Not so fast, and so on."

Mom said that when I was a child, I followed my grandfather every morning. He went to sell fish, so I squatted quietly beside him. I don't remember this scene.

I remember when I was in junior high school, my grandfather was still in good health. He planted a lot of vegetables and took them to the market early in the morning. I ride a bike. Before going to school, I went to his booth as usual and greeted him. "Grandpa, I'm going to school." Grandpa answered me enthusiastically: "Good!"

Grandpa never cares about the odds and ends of business. All the people who buy food are villagers in the village. They picked a handful of vegetables and put them on the scale. Grandpa looked at them and said, "Three dollars, two dollars, and three dollars will do."

09

Grandpa has no bad hobbies, but likes to buy lottery tickets. Don't bet heavily, just buy a few dollars, a dozen dollars. Lose more and win less.

Every time I ask him, "Will you buy it next time?" He waved his hand. "I won't buy it."

After a while, I handed over a tabloid. "Look at these poems. How do you decipher them? "

Before each lottery, someone sells mysterious poems, and a tabloid costs 50 cents. It is said that the winning number is hidden in the poem.

I look at the so-called "mystery poems" that are patchwork, and it is a headache to interpret them.

Besides, grandpa, didn't you swear never to buy it again?

09

When I was in college, I wrote an essay "Two Generations" based on my grandfather and won the second prize at the provincial level. I don't think I told grandpa about it.

Now I realize how stupid I am. Why didn't I tell him? He should be very happy to hear that. I wrote the pond with my youth and his hoe with my prose.

"Grandpa's action is getting slower and slower. After so many years, grandpa can always see a glimmer of life in simple vegetable seedlings. When you are tired, put the hoe into the soil, sit on the handle of the hoe that has been smooth for many years, light a cigarette comfortably, take a sip, and then spit it out slowly. The lingering smoke blurred the vision, and everything familiar in front of me was shrouded in a foggy unknown. Sometimes, not seeing clearly can bring a sense of security. You can't make your life silent and monotonous for the sake of rice, oil and salt. "

Now I feel that the words are melodramatic, but it seems that it was the first time I wrote my grandfather in the words.

10

After people leave, it is a tradition in Chaoshan to burn what people have used and empty the room.

When I was sorting out my grandfather's relics, I saw a coat I bought him two years ago, which was still brand-new.

He is afraid of heat and often wears a pair of big underpants at home. In the late spring and early summer of this year, it was still a little cold, so I bought him a pair of thin pants. I wonder if he put it on the chair.

In June, I resigned, returned home, stood in front of the public house, looked at the empty room and shouted "Grandpa" into the air. I don't expect to hear that voice full of mature "yes" again.

A fortune teller once told me that I would live to be 89 years old. Think of it this way. After 60 years, we can meet again in the sky.