"Yin and Yang are separated, and the two realms of life and death are the two realms. This is a saying that people often use to describe death. Living people can never witness their own death. However, it is the death of our closest relatives that allows us to realize the above It’s a painful statement. In this regard, death is always a matter for the living.”
Ten years ago, I saw this passage in a prose book, and the title has been engraved in my mind since then: Death is the business of the living. In the past six months, perhaps because I have witnessed the loss of several close friends, I have thought of these words from time to time. But now that I was experiencing it personally, it became my own comfort.
Life is a very pitiful thing. You don’t know where it comes from and you don’t know where it is going. We can neither choose when to start nor when to end. The only thing we can choose is our own lifestyle and attitude towards life, and there are too many things we cannot control.
That early morning a few days ago, I was washing and listening to music, and my father suddenly sent a message saying, "Grandma left early this morning," and the music happened to be playing "The Last Train." I put down my phone and didn't allow myself to stay idle for too long. I continued to sort out my clothes. Everything seemed so peaceful and surprisingly peaceful, as if the whole world was about to fall asleep.
A month ago, my father called to say that my grandma was critically ill and asked me if I had time to go and see her. At that moment, I chose to try my best to cover up. People around me just thought I had a cold. My father said that it was estimated that there would still be a week; I said that we should deal with some things and rush there within three days. Sitting in the small garden of Yangyin, looking at the holy white flowers all over the garden, they are like the color of life. Xiao Muzi said: "Then you go back today, time waits for no one..." I said, I will definitely wait for me, my tone was firm, but in my heart I kept saying: Time, please wait a little longer! During those two days, I spent the whole time in fear, and the sound of the hands ticking time was all in my mind.
On the way back, I had no intention of fulfilling my old habit of reading, so I could only stare out the window silently. What accompanies me in my race against time is just the music in my ears, including the song "Last Train" that has been played several times, as if I am chasing the last train of my life.
My father said that grandma couldn’t eat anything and asked me to buy a grapefruit and take it back. I guess what my father was thinking must be "you", but there was no way to buy grapefruit this season, so I had to pick some apples and oranges. Grandpa asked grandma if she wanted to eat, and grandma said: "Of course I have to eat the things my grandson brought me." So grandpa peeled half an orange, and grandma ate it while lying on the hospital bed. When she took the first bite, her eyes There were tears left. After eating, grandma said to me: "When your father came to see me that day, he said, 'We have all come back to see you, and they will all come back, why are you crying?' I said, 'Because I am happy, so many Everyone is back, and the grandson I have been talking about is also back..." Thinking about it carefully, it seems that the number of times I have met my grandma in the past ten years can be counted on one hand.
Grandma ate something again and seemed to be much more energetic. Everyone thought that grandma would recover. Sister Fan said I was a good medicine, but how could someone who couldn't even recognize her relatives half a year ago suddenly become sober like that?
I told my grandfather that I should leave in the afternoon. This time, grandpa did not try to persuade him to stay as before. He just took a few puffs of cigarette quietly and then asked: "If grandma really leaves, will you come back?"
The air that day was silent. For a long time, it was just like the tranquility on the southwest border. After all, I still couldn't go back. Looking at the pure sky high in the sky makes people want to kiss the earth. Fortunately, I caught the last train; but also helplessly, when I arrived at the last station, I was no longer on the bus.
Ten years is a very short time. Childhood upbringing is fleeting and you rarely go back when you grow up. Ten years is also a long time, long enough for people to forget. Lots of details. In today's memory, perhaps only the kindness of those ten years is left, and the tear shed by my grandma when she ate the oranges I brought.
I don’t know if grandma was free from worries when she left. To leave, you should just arrive at a terminal where you can rest.