Tears on the needle-remembering grandma

hmm.

do you love my grandpa? I was rubbing the quilt lining that I couldn't see clearly on the washboard and talking to my grandmother.

grandma seems to be so old from the beginning. All the year round, I wear black big-breasted clothes, a black silk hair cover, greasy needles, dumplings-like feet, white socks and black shoes, and always watch the children, eat and sew on the kang. When the sun is fine, she will walk out slowly holding the root of the wall, holding a cane in her hand and standing like a stump, looking at the distance.

why do you ask this? Do you like it or not? Super girl. At this time, she was lying on the kang, leaning sideways, with one arm resting on the snow-white quilt and a big needle in one hand, trying to sew the quilt. The needle and thread in my hand twisted and twisted, and I swam quickly on the quilt covered with broken red flowers.

do you hate grandpa? In my memory, it seems that she rarely wears new clothes, and she always wears them cleanly to the end. In her, there is no difference between new clothes and old clothes. They are all the same color, with a big black coat.

no.

why? He beat you. I've seen him pull out your hair, and you don't hate it.

why not. He is a shopkeeper, and God made him for me.

why?

come and put a needle on grandma. She's too old to see. Under the windowsill, grandma squinted, took the needle, faced the light, poked it a few times, but the thread still couldn't get into the needle tube. She looked at me with a kind face.

I immediately stopped rubbing the sheets in my hand and wiped them on my clothes. Go to the edge of the kang, pick up the thread and needle and lick it in your mouth. The soft thread immediately becomes hard. With a slight poke, the thread stretched out end to end and got in.

looking at grandma's big eyes and beautiful eyes with several layers of eyelids, I smiled and said that grandma couldn't see such a big needle, and even laughed at others' small eyes.

hehe, sew your eyes carefully, and find a son-in-law in the future, lest people dislike you.

I won't find a son-in-law. What's wrong with small eyes? They also focus light. Besides, I just want to find someone in the future to see if he dares to abandon me.

I walked back angrily, continued to sit on the stool, grabbed a handful of washing powder, put it on the black cloth and rubbed it hard on the washboard.

still angry? Grandma didn't look at me with a smile, and continued to bend down and work without talking. I was tired of washing and felt bored, so I looked up at her. On the kang, the old man dressed in black, yellow and white face, full and clean like an autumn sunflower. Beside the kang, several black and red boxes painted with big flowers lined up neatly, with big brass locks hanging and dazzling. I know there are many delicious foods locked in it, and there are many things I don't know.

Marriage is fate, and it's all made by God. She said to herself. The wrist joint of the flying needle is bulky and clumsy, with a huge thimble on the middle finger, shining silver in the sun and winding forward like a snake.

since childhood, we have known that grandpa has three wives and grandma is the third. In a family home in Yuncheng, Shanxi, Grandpa still has a "home". The "blood tide" died when the great grandmother gave birth to her uncle, and the second grandmother stayed with her uncle and never got married. To be precise, grandpa is a woman with two rooms. Grandma's marriage is a bit bumpy, as if it were misty and vague, with her at one end and our unclear past at the other.

Your grandfather is also a scholar from a big family and a businessman. He is stubborn and kind-hearted, and he is very kind to your foreign wife. He has raised your uncles and grandfathers. He gets upset sometimes, and when he hits me, he takes it out. I don't say anything.

she sighed and straightened up. We look at the apple tree outside the window, and the branches that have lost their leaves are occasionally swayed by the wind; There is a withered black fruit hanging on that branch.

Grandma, Grandpa is from Shanxi. How did you meet? Why did you marry him?

I'm not getting married. Someone else sold me to your grandfather.

ah. How much did you buy?

broomcorn millet.

you are worth three stones of millet.

Grandma showed off her waist. How much do you think a woman is worth? My first room is the Korean family in Wuying. Your uncle and aunt were born in Han family. Your grandfather was a heavy smoker. Later, he suffered from consumption and died, leaving our three mothers to suffer in the world. His brother and sister-in-law thought my life was bad and I couldn't feed for nothing, so they made an agreement with your grandfather now, robbed me overnight and bought three stones of millet.

grandma, what's that grandfather like?

black and thin, short, with yellow teeth, he is a man who cares nothing but lives. He is the kind of man who doesn't care about you whether he is happy or not. When I got married, your grandmother accompanied me with two beds, silk quilt cover and new cotton, which I could not bear to use, so I tied them up and put them in a box. The damn fool took it out and changed it to a big pipe. I didn't dare to cry in the house. Their family is also a big family, and the women who live in the fields don't do it, but all the work in the family is mine. Our own men are not people, others bully them, and people in the family look down upon them. Later, he died. The widow's life is really hard. I don't know where the end of the day is. I remember that one year, when the Chinese New Year was coming, it was now. In the twenties of the twelfth lunar month, the daughters-in-law in other rooms were busy unpacking and washing the bed to make new clothes, talking and laughing. I didn't even have anything to unpack and wash. Niang San, dressed in rags, sat on the light stand crying

Her voice dropped, and we were silent. For a moment, the room was a little quiet. When the quilt was finished, grandma knelt on the kang and patted it, folding it neatly. Kneeling, he moved over, put it on the box cover, pressed it with his hand, and looked at the chubby bed with satisfaction, just like looking at his grandson.

grandma, you really bought it from grandpa. You won't lie to me, will you?

She looked at me, lifted her big-breasted clothes and took out a key from her close-fitting pocket. Open the box and say, you are literate, come and see.

I ran to have a look. There is a neat stack of clothes in the box, and a few pieces of red silk and green satin are shining beautifully. On one side, there are brown sugar and white sugar fruit sugar cans, a bottle of An Naijin, a seal, a pair of silver bracelets, a portrait of my grandfather, and thick yellow thread-bound books. She turned up the bottom one, found a dark yellow piece of paper, lifted it and opened it. I saw the words in black ink, which read: deed of sale. Then there is a string of vertical characters that I can't understand.

grandma, why don't you have your name?

I don't have a name.

then what's your name?

my maiden name is Lu, and my nickname is Guiying. I used to be called Han Lushi, but now I'm called Gao Lushi.

then, she took out a needle from the interlayer of the pile of clothes and showed it to me. Small and petal-shaped, it is completely different from the oily one that is adorned on the big-breasted clothes in peacetime. A few green leaves grow tender and tender on the black velvet, and two plum blossoms are blushing and whispering shyly, even with long red ribbons. I opened it conveniently, and a row of silver needles were pinned on it, standing in an orderly way, just like grandma's fate.

grandma, I want to learn to sew, too.

my baby doesn't learn to do these things. You must read a book and have your own nickname and official name. Reading a book will be different from milk in this life.

outside, the sun is flying higher and higher, and the wind in the twelfth month is running naughty and unscrupulous, spinning east and north, and spinning around inexplicably.

is my grandfather good to you?

well, your grandfather is kind to me. He has a family and children, and I know it. It was normal for women to have several rooms in the old society. Although I bought a widow, he also looked up to me. Our family has a few acres of land here. We are neither poor nor rich, but we have enough to eat and wear. What else do we need? During the Chinese New Year, he will send a lot of money to his hometown and talk about your second grandma and uncle. When liberation was carried out in 1949, monogamy was practiced. Your grandfather stayed here instead of going back to his hometown, pulling my two children, and later gave birth to your father.

grandma, whisper to me, what were you like when you were young?

She was a little dazed, picked up the needle, rubbed it, rubbed it, and her thoughts seemed to drift away:

When I was young, I looked good, too. Your great grandfather gave birth to several sons and gave birth to my daughter. It hurts. When I was a child, I was also a bully for Wang Wei, and I was given up. I remember that your wife made me a cotton-padded jacket with big flowers. It was colorful, and it really looked good on me. Who knows that married people, pulling dolls, suffered so much. Why is a person's life so long?

She knelt by the kang, tears streaming down, one by one, on colorful needles. Later, she cried loudly, and her gray hair was scattered, dazzling white in the orange sunshine.

I was startled. Growing up, I thought grandma was the one who couldn't cry. Now, she is 76 years old, and she is crying, and it is the end of the year. I don't know why she is crying. Do you think of those young girls' years, your dead parents and brothers, those humiliating and suffering days, or your grandfather and yourself' long and forbearing life?

several decades have passed, and grandma has been dead for more than twenty years. The needle has always stayed with me, the shape of petals, small appearance. I seldom do needlework, and in fact I can't. Just remember grandma's words, read a book and become a woman with a nickname and official name.

Every New Year's Eve, I will still remember an old man with white hair, crying in the sunset; I often see that the needles are pricked with the sadness and helplessness, grievances and helplessness that flowed out of those coos.