When my mother was alive, on May 5th, the Dragon Boat Festival, she would walk back and forth to the river in the dew before dawn to collect a large amount of mugwort leaves to ensure her needs for t

When my mother was alive, on May 5th, the Dragon Boat Festival, she would walk back and forth to the river in the dew before dawn to collect a large amount of mugwort leaves to ensure her needs for the year. Then dry it and store it properly in case something happens. Throughout her life, she provided free cupping services to 40 or 50 children to dispel the cold.

I have a child who contracted a disease when he was eight or nine years old. His right hand kept shaking. He went to the hospital many times for treatment, but the treatment effect was not obvious. After my mother learned about it, she took the initiative to undergo acupuncture and cupping treatment. When the boy refused to cooperate, she gave him my little white dog that I had raised for more than a month and coaxed him to undergo cupping. After seven days of acupuncture and cupping, his condition improved significantly. After a month, it returned to normal. Another time, in May, which was the wheat-cutting season, a man came from Huai'an, a foreign town, and panicked and asked his mother to give his child acupuncture. When my mother heard about it, she put down the wheat in her hand and walked away without saying a word. Two days later, her mother came back and the wheat had been cut. The mother mentioned this and said that the man worked in the commune and gave her ten yuan as a reward after curing the child, but she refused to take it. In the end, she only brought back a pair of socks. In my memory, this pair of socks was the only payment my mother received, and it was also the heaviest payment.

In May 1997, my mother suffered from rheumatism. Because my family was poor and had no money, we were unable to go out for medical treatment. I could only take my mother to Yuele No. 2 Hospital for conservative treatment. During those seven days, I stayed by my mother's side, watching her suffer from the disease. The back of her skinny hands was covered with needle holes due to hanging water. She couldn't eat, and there was no obvious treatment effect. The doctor asked us to leave the hospital and go home to recuperate. . I had hundreds of dollars in my pocket and didn't have much left to spend. Seeing that I had no money to treat my mother, I felt like a needle pricking my heart. On the morning of the seventh day, I woke up but my mother was nowhere to be seen. Thinking that my mother's condition had improved, I hurried to the corridor of the hospital to look for my mother, but I couldn't find her anywhere, and I became even more panicked. I was thinking of going back to the ward to see if my mother was back. As soon as I arrived at the door, I smelled a faint smell of burning moxa leaves coming from the ward next door. I had a vague guess in my heart, and sure enough, my mother was in the next ward performing acupuncture and cupping on a baby who had just turned one month old. In the ward where the smell of moxa leaves had not dissipated, my mother with short hair was sitting on the bed at the end. It turned out that she had discovered in the afternoon the day before that the child had been in the hospital for five days with no results, so she asked the child's father to find Ai Ye, and then sneaked over after I fell asleep, and spent the whole night struggling. When I found my mother, she had already finished acupuncture. I was very angry at the time, so I walked up to my mother and reprimanded her: "There is a doctor in the hospital, why are you bothering? You are not afraid of people saying anything about you!" The father of the child saw that I was blaming him, so he quickly said: "Auntie moved to the ward to see my baby yesterday. The infusion didn't work, so I said the child was a bad boy. He didn't sleep last night and gave the child acupuncture. Now the child feels a little better. We plan to discharge him today." Then, the child's father took out a hundred yuan from the inside of his clothes and handed it over. To the mother, the mother sitting beside the hospital bed slowly stood up and said: "I don't want money, you can take it back to buy some milk powder for the child. I'm so sick, why do I need money? I've never accepted money from anyone in my life." Money." Knowing my mother's temper, I persuaded the man to take back the money. At that time, I only had a dozen yuan left with me. One hundred yuan could still give my mother three days of infusion, but my mother refused without hesitation. My mother never took a dime from others, and she was too poor to owe anyone a penny. "You must be ambitious even if you are poor." This mantra of my mother has influenced my life. The child's father and I helped our sick mother walk back to the ward. My mother sat for a while and said to me: "Let's get discharged from the hospital. I know my illness. Just go back and take it easy. I know you don't have any money. The hospital can't treat my illness well. I can do it myself when I go back." Acupuncture and cupping, is this a trend? Infusion is not enough."

I secretly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, feeling sorry for my own incompetence and my mother's understanding. I held the ten yuan that was wet with sweat and said to my mother with a smile: "Mom, what do you want to eat? I'll buy some breakfast and we'll go back after eating." My mother looked at me and said, "I can't eat any more." "You can buy it yourself." "Son, do we still have money to take the bus?" My heart was hit hard by my mother's words, and the tears I had just suppressed burst out again.

The mother went on to say, "It must have cost several hundred to treat me this time. I have to pay for it again. How can I pay it back when I go back?" She sighed heavily and made a weak sound from her frail body. Straight into the depths of my heart. I wanted to cure my mother, but the doctor said that my mother had rheumatic heart disease. This disease was not treatable at the time. Rich people could go to Xi'an for electrothermal treatment, which could maintain their lives for one or two years. But at that time, my younger brother and I got married and were already heavily in debt. "Mom, you are so sick, why do you want money? We can make more money when you go back. As long as you recover, we will be fine." The tears that came out had already blurred my eyes and could not be wiped away. Unfinished, I could only lower my head, thinking that my mother couldn't see. The thin and haggard mother used her strength to bear the torment of the disease, but she never heard a moan or said pain.

Then I completed the discharge procedures, carried my luggage and helped my mother out of the hospital door. The child's parents were standing at the door, holding the child in their arms, sending their mother off the hospital. They also bought four buns and a box of biscuits and delivered them to me. Mother didn't say anything, she just turned around and looked at the hospital. The white walls were covered in gray and mottled, and it was desolate.

Mother’s way of loyalty and filial piety

“Loyalty, filial piety, righteousness and kindness are convenient and do not require me to be true naturally.” As a peasant woman, the filial piety in her heart is to honor her parents-in-law and let them eat She is fully clothed and warm, and enjoys her old age; her loyalty is reflected in her selfless upbringing of orphans. My mother used her actions throughout her life to practice her concept of loyalty and filial piety.

In the mid-1980s, my grandfather was eighty-one years old. In the first half of the year, he was still very strong. He had no teeth and played the flute to entertain us. In the second half of the year, his physical condition deteriorated sharply and he had difficulty moving. , can only sleep on the kang all day long. Grandpa has no daughter, and his father does nothing, so he can only rely on his mother to take care of his daily life. My grandfather was picky about his food, so my mother took the trouble to cook it over and over again until he was satisfied, just to satisfy the appetite of a dying old man. I just entered junior high school and when I returned home from self-study, I saw my mother holding an iron spoon and frying eggs for my grandfather in the fireworks on the earthen kang. This was considered a delicacy at the time. In September 1986, I had just started school. When I got home, my mother invited me to eat her fried eggs, saying that these were specially left for me by my grandfather. I turned around and looked at my grandfather who was sleeping on the kang. The yellow light from the kerosene lamp was dim and weak, and I could not see his face clearly. I walked closer to take a look. Grandpa grinned and said slowly: "Eat quickly, I don't want to eat. You must be filial to your mother and listen to your mother's words. It was your mother who built our family. I'm sorry for your mother." "Before grandpa finished speaking, my mother was already bursting into tears. My mother then said, "Son, what are you doing? From the moment I walked in, you have been both a father and a mother-in-law. You have taught me how to cook, sew, and do housework. You should take good care of yourself." My father was still sitting on the kang. and two uncles. Grandpa had fallen asleep at this time and never woke up again.

In 1989, near the end of the year, my mother’s brother came to have a son. But my uncle was suffering from illness and his family was poor, so he had no conditions to raise a child. After barely raising the child until he was one year old, his aunt ran away from home and his uncle's condition worsened, so my grandfather gave the child to his mother to raise. Before that, my mother also adopted my second uncle’s second daughter. In 1990, during my first weekend in high school, my uncle became seriously ill. My mother took me to visit my uncle. This was also the last time we saw each other. The uncle once again entrusted the child to his mother on his deathbed. He raised his trembling body, suddenly knelt down in front of my mother and me, and said to my mother: "I can't do it anymore. What to do with the child? I can't rely on anyone but you." He fell on the ground, Tears flowed down. My mother, who was in tears, couldn't say a word and wiped her tears with her sleeves. My uncle straightened up his frail body and looked at me. I suddenly understood my mother's difficulties. I also knelt on the ground, supported my uncle, and expressed my mother's wishes: "Mom, let's raise the child together! Uncle, don't worry, we will not let the child suffer." This may be the arrangement of fate. As the saying goes, the mother raised her child until he was eight years old and then left us forever. I took over this burden from my mother, became her successor, and worked with my wife to fulfill my mother’s unfinished regrets.

Mother’s last days

Ever since my mother returned home from Yuele No. 2 Hospital, she has been fighting against the disease. Perhaps realizing that time was short, she asked me to bring my eldest daughter, who was two years old. The eldest daughter was left with her mother when she was six months old, and she often carried her on her back until she was two years old. The younger brother also has a daughter. During that time, two granddaughters and a nephew were around her all day long. Looking back now, that period was the most leisurely time in my mother's life, and it may also be the happiest time for her. My mother never wore new clothes in her life. After her mother fell ill, my wife tore cloth in the town and made her a blue suit. My mother only wore it for two months. This was the first and last set of new clothes she wore. set.

At noon on June 28, 1997, my mother’s life was forever fixed on this day. She was only forty-seven years old. She died on the way to the county hospital in an emergency. She died of rheumatic heart disease. She died early due to poverty and fatigue. She was buried in the loess forever with endless regrets.

On the morning of my mother’s funeral, it was just dawn and the clear moon had not yet set. The sun that was about to rise leaked a little light and sprinkled it on the coffin carried by a group of people, and slowly walked out. At the gate, filial sons are wearing white filial piety clothes and filial piety hats. Women are wiping their eyes and sobbing. The suona is high-pitched and solemn. Accompanied by Mr. Yin Yang’s chanting, the mother is removed from the cave dwelling where she has lived for decades. She was carried out of the house, and then sent out of the courtyard surrounded by earth walls, to the cemetery where she would rest for eternity. That day, when the farewell party came out of the yard, they saw many pear trees planted by my mother during her lifetime, full of white flowers. In June, the pear trees bloomed again, causing those present to stop on their way to the cemetery. The white flowers are in clusters, like pieces of white cloth. They rustle in the morning breeze. The pear petals falling from time to time are like drops of tears, hitting the loess under the tree and hitting my heart. After a while, I don’t know who coughed. People came to their senses from the shock. The suona continued to play and the scriptures continued to be read. There were also whispers from the mourners talking about the blooming pear trees. They followed suit. We walked down the narrow dirt road, crossed a small river, and then slowly climbed up the mountain. That piece of new yellow soil, a newly dug grave, will be the place where my mother will rest forever.

The pear blossoms shed tears, and the plants and trees were all sad.

My mother has left forever, and there is no trace of her in the world. She is like a bouquet of fireworks, which has experienced difficult resistance in the air and rushed upward. After being weathered, it disappeared without a trace in an instant. Although my mother's life was short and difficult, it was magnanimous. When she was alive, she devoted her life completely to her husband, children and her home. Her sincerity and kindness infected her neighbors dozens of miles away. When she was laid to rest in that piece of yellow land, her Life is truly hers. Whenever I dream back at midnight, I can always clearly see my mother kneeling in the dirt yard, pulling things to dry in her hands. Although her life was difficult and difficult, her soul stood upright, like an evergreen pine and cypress, always living in my heart and nourishing me and my children.

(Author Zhao Yanping