My grandmother's prose

April in the north is an unbearable injury season. While the flowers are in full bloom, they are slowly withering, falling and turning into mud. So do people. From mid-spring to late spring, there are always some people closest to us who can't stand the green summer and disappear completely. It feels like a gust of wind, only bitter and cold.

Sophomore (20 13), Tomb-Sweeping Day called his father the night before his holiday, asking in detail whether Chunzhong was busy or not, and whether he needed me to go home for help. My father on the other end of the phone solemnly said to me, "It doesn't matter whether you help me or not. The important thing is that your aunt (grandma in the local dialect) is dying. I watched' Confession' yesterday (a religious activity that Muslims pray for, here refers to confession before dying). Your mother and I went. Your mother stayed, but I was home alone. If you can't, you can come back this holiday, and you can take care of anything. " Put down the phone, grandma's voice and appearance immediately emerged clearly in front of my eyes. No, no, I went to see my grandmother on purpose before going to school. Everything is fine. How can I refuse? I don't believe it, but even if I refuse to admit it, my heart is already in a mess. So I made up my mind to go home decisively this Tomb-Sweeping Day holiday, rain or shine. Just like the night before each departure, this night is doomed to inexplicable insomnia, but I promise to get up early the next day, just like an alarm clock. This is my habit of conditioned reflex when I go out, and I can't change it.

Lying in a foreign bed, looking out of the window, I miss grandma most. As long as I can remember, my grandmother has been a grandmother with crutches around her feet. Grandma is very kind and has a good temper. In my memory, she never hit us, scolded us, and never gave us a bad look. She is just like our own grandmother, so for a while, we called her grandma and bit our teeth for fear that she would disagree.

Grandma was born in the countryside in the early years of the Republic of China. At that time, the countryside was still relatively closed, and the custom of foot binding was not completely broken. Grandma was forced to bind her feet when she reached the age of binding her feet. I heard from her mother that grandma hasn't bound her feet for a while, so her feet are slightly bigger than those who do, and slightly smaller than those who don't. This directly leads to an embarrassment. There are few shoes suitable for grandma to wear in the market, so grandma always wears new big shoes or small shoes when she goes out to visit relatives, and immediately puts on her own hand-made cloth shoes when she arrives at relatives' home. Most handmade cloth shoes are made by her mother and aunt. Grandma's clothes are very simple, too. The tops are all blue (black) gray jackets in Ming and Qing dynasties, with or without patterns on them. What impressed me the most was the "Chinese-style chest covering" under grandma's coat, which always produced many things. There are needles and needles, thimbles, commonly used medicines and a small fruit knife. When we were young, our favorite things were dried fruits and sweets. Grandma always reaches into it mysteriously and touches it, and it will produce all kinds of dried fruits and sweets. You have one, I have one. I feel that grandma's stomach pocket is always inexhaustible, and she can take out a few more in a few days, so she was never greedy for us little greedy cats when she was a child.

As we grow older, we grow up slowly, and grandma's back is getting more and more hunched and her legs are getting more and more bent. I always feel that grandma is shorter than us faster and faster. The "Chinese-style corset" that we once yearned for is getting more and more bulging. There is no shortage of dried fruit candy, but there are many medicines, such as cold medicine, eye drops, antihypertensive drugs, and heart-saving pills ... People's life is really bitter. My grandmother has suffered all her life. She should have had a good time, but she was troubled by various diseases.

The last time I saw my grandmother was at the end of my sophomore winter vacation. At that time, I just came back from Beijing "work-study program" and earned the first bucket of gold in my life. My eldest brother in Beijing asked me to visit my grandmother. At that time, shortly after my grandmother had cataract surgery, I went with my parents and three people, and I took a lot of food with me when I left. Of course, I bought some with the money I earned. I remember very clearly that my grandmother was at my aunt's house and we went directly to her house. My grandmother's situation was not very good that time. According to my mother and aunt, the operation was successful, but my grandmother was in a bad mood. After the operation, I seldom smile, talk and talk. I always don't talk when I speak, and often just sit quietly on the kang in a daze. I didn't have time to think at that time. I just think it's probably just a short-term sequela from my grandmother's surgery. It should get better gradually as time goes on. Who would have thought that my grandmother had already predicted her future? Born in dust and returned to dust, naked from the world, and naked from the world. During this period, nothing can be taken away, only three zhangs of white cloth can be taken away (after the death of Muslims, according to Islamic law, the deceased must be wrapped in three zhangs of white cloth and buried). At that time, my grandmother had already begun to prepare for returning to reality. She didn't laugh because she was remembering the past and afraid of the future. She talks as little as possible because she talks too much. She was in a daze quietly because she was worried about her children and grandchildren who were not around. ...

I set off at six o'clock that morning and got home at noon. Because dad didn't eat, and I didn't eat, so I washed and plunged into the kitchen. Just as the meal was almost ready, the phone rang and the bad news came. Grandma has passed away. At that moment, I didn't know how I got out of the kitchen, why I came out and why I stood there. When my father told me everything, my tears came down unconsciously. I felt a stream of cold lead water in my throat, getting colder and colder, flowing down more and more heavily, and finally hitting my heart violently. At this moment, all the unwillingness and grievances were blurred by tears. I thought I could see my grandmother again, but it was too late. I thought I came, but I missed it in the end. Father got on the motorcycle in a hurry before he had time to eat. Because there are still cattle and sheep at home, I am left alone to look after them for the time being. I lost my appetite to eat after my father left, but I managed to eat a bowl with tears in my eyes. When eating, I can always think of jiaozi wrapped by my grandmother, the bean jelly she made, and the fish in her noodles. It's a pity that I can't eat grandma's cooking anymore. I thought that after my grandmother died, my great-uncle (grandfather) and great-uncle (grandmother) still loved me. Unexpectedly, my great-uncle died only a few years ago, and so did my great-uncle. Since then, I have been a child without the pain of the "old" people. From then on, I am not a "child". Since then, I have been a complete "big" person.

The next day was grandma's funeral, and I went with my uncles. As soon as I entered my uncle's house, I heard my aunt and mother crying. I thought I could hold back, but I held back my tears. I don't know where the hysterical tears come from. How can there be so many? I can't stop. After stepping into the door, my grandmother was lying on the ground covered with wheat straw, surrounded by my mother, aunt and sisters kneeling. They cried their eyes red and lost their voices. I have seen a similar scene in this room, but I didn't expect to see it again so soon. I knelt beside my mother and bowed my head, because I didn't dare to look into the eyes of my mother and aunt, and I didn't dare to look into my grandmother's face, because I was already in tears, and I was afraid I couldn't help crying out loud. The heart is hurting and the tears are flowing. The most painful thing in the world is that our loved ones have left forever, but we have to face and experience it more than once. What kind of grief and sorrow is this?

New soil buries old soil, and old soil buries new people. Grandma was buried at noon. She was buried with her grandfather, in the same cemetery. There is a wind in April, and a gentle blow blows a handful of loess from the new grave. This loess is like a slap, a revelation, which will hit everyone's face or body sooner or later.

On the third day of the holiday, I should go back to school. I came in a hurry and went in a hurry, and attended grandma's funeral in the middle. My older brothers said I was fine. At least I attended my grandmother's funeral. They can only live in a remote corner of Lacrimosa. Where will you go's pain is a silent heartbreak, a motionless heartbreak.

That's what the dead do. They don't give up day and night. The dead are gone, and so are the living. We live naked and walk naked, starting with our own crying and ending with others' crying. This time is called life. During this time, we can't take anything away or leave anything behind. What can be taken away is only three zhangs of poplar cloth, and what can be left is only sporadic broken light and chaotic evil. The night before yesterday, I watched "Hui Knife in Clear Water", and there was a scene that made me cry: when the old man Mazishan learned that the old cow was going to dedicate himself to cleaning the inside, he said this to the imam: We are not even as good as the cow, and the cow knows what to do (before dedication), but we live in darkness and know nothing. In Islamic teachings, a person can't take anything away after returning to the truth. There are only three things: one is endless charity; Second, children who often pray for him; The third is the knowledge of helping others. Now I am in a foreign land, which coincides with my grandmother's death, but I can only pray and comfort through words, and I can do nothing else. The only thing I can do is to sweep graves, pray more and give more alms when I get home.

This is the fifth day after my grandmother died. It's windy today, too. It's a sandstorm sweeping the northwest. At the moment, I am on the mountain in a foreign land, and I seem to vaguely smell the familiar and unforgettable loess in the distance. ...