Niangniang (12- 14)

From now on, I will start to travel through my own time and space. It's a little tired just to write memories.

Here is a link to the article before "Girl Sa".

12.

This morning (2065438+May 2009, 1), I sent a WeChat on a whim, which was well received by many friends. Being praised is also a whipping and promotion. Why am I so lazy? The article about the lady was broken two years ago. During this time, my world and my heart have changed greatly. It is subjective for me to say that it is upside down. Objectively speaking, the sun is still rising and setting and nothing has changed. It's just that the sun rises and sets anyway, bit by bit casually? The earth is carved with everything on the earth, the vicissitudes of time, and our aging face.

We all have beauty artifacts, from all kinds of offline products to all kinds of camera tools, which can make us look beautiful, and can also make us look beautiful, encouraging people with lofty appearance but lonely heart to fall in love with themselves again and again. But my children are my reference. They are getting bigger and bigger. No matter how many artifacts and vain hearts, I am not stupid. A few hours ago (May 5), I went downstairs from the second floor with my luggage and went out to the airport. My son, who is already one head taller than me, ran over and said, "Mom, why are you so young?"

It is time. In the eyes of children, in fact, I will not only get smaller and smaller, but also get bigger and bigger. In the face of aging, do we have any other choice? If I want to be young forever, I can only choose to die young. Therefore, I stand in front of the mirror every day, occasionally put on ordinary skin care products, lipstick, eyebrows and eyeliner, look at the increasingly stubborn macula and eye circles on my face, and say to myself, "Hug yourself, hug me now. My present appearance will also be delivered to time, let me embrace my aging. "

That's it. I don't really want to write about it. I want to live every precious hour in the present. When I recall my girlhood bit by bit, I miss the present moment, including the little time I can get along with my children now.

It's just that sometimes inexplicable emotions come to my mind and I can't help crying. When I want to cry, I can write a few words to tidy up my mood, and then go back to pick up new surprises. Although recalling the past time can also bring me new happiness at this time, it is really not easy to share those feelings in words.

The past time, the present time, is like a gust of wind blowing away leaves and tears, but it can't blow away the feelings I have. As long as I live, that's all. As for why? Obviously, everything is a short-lived past, and it is inevitable to circulate in the universe we live in. It's hard to say.

I wonder whether AI can make us live in the present and relive the past completely at the same time, and whether it can also make us live every minute many times.

13.

It was really a blink of an eye. My daughter will graduate from college this year. My son will go to college in two years. More than a year ago, when my son finally crossed the last millimeter and grew taller than me, my daughter announced on the spot that my mother had officially become the smallest and most portable item in the family. Smiling, I just thought, I have practiced empty nest many times and it will come true soon.

My daughter has always said that I am the coolest mother among her classmates and the only mother among her classmates who pays college tuition alone. It doesn't matter. There is no complaint if you choose. My son said that I was the most infectious mother among his classmates. I guess it's because I took him (when he 12 years old) to a speech I gave in front of 5000 people. At that time, his mother's image in his mind should have gone from short to high.

Now my biggest dream is to be the coolest and most infectious grandma and grandma.

In order to realize this ideal, although I have to face my aging like sunrise and sunset every day, I have to face the increase of waist circumference, the decrease of chest circumference, the decrease of hair and the increase of wrinkles, but I still need to constantly supplement myself, live firmly in this era that I can't understand and continue to resist the role of gravity.

14.

I went to bed after midnight last night (the evening of April 30th) and was awakened by the sound of the piano downstairs. I want to scold the smelly boy in my heart. It's not jet lag. How can I get up in the middle of the night and play the piano? Just don't have the strength to scold, cocked his head and fell asleep with a smile.

I woke up like a dream this morning.

My sister took care of books when she was a child and suffered a little, but she also grew into an excellent baby who was very close to her mother. The boy is completely treated as a pig, just feed him and take care of nothing else. My sister is at home during the spring break these days, which reminds me of the days when I took my brother to the United States to attend my sister's graduation ceremony, which happened to be his final exam. Ask me if I have asked the school to change the examination time. Of course I didn't. My sister quickly found a timetable from school for my brother to read carefully. Sure enough, I will miss the math and English final exams. I quickly wrote an email to the school, moving with emotion and understanding with reason. The school expressed its complete understanding and support. I replied to the email excitedly, and sincerely said that this school is one of the most important reasons why we still stay in Shanghai.

When it comes to children's love for music, it is not clear how much is genetic, environmental and deliberate cultivation. The eldest daughter has studied piano and cello for N years, and has some small requirements and expectations for her. I once talked to the most authoritative piano professor in new york and said that I could study as a major. Anna's strongest is her listening ability and understanding of music, as well as her ability to read music immediately, which many professional musicians lack. If there is piano music for her, she can play it at once. When Anna was young, I took her to classical concerts almost every week. When she was five, we went to listen to Paalmann's songs. Paalmann, the world's top violinist suffering from polio, fell from his chair while playing deeply, and then sat quietly on the ground to play the piano. After the performance, the audience applauded. Behind the scenes, her father took Anna and me backstage. The owner in the wheelchair is almost as tall as five-year-old Anna, and reaches out and shakes hands with Anna. I told Anna not to wash this hand easily. She seemed to understand something, but she remembered that moment as a heart.

When Anna was seven years old, Lang Lang came home once. At that time, Lang Lang was in his early twenties and was already a world-famous pianist. He came to Houston to perform, and his father invited him to dinner at home. He is glad to come. As soon as I entered the door, I smelled the fragrance of my hometown jiaozi and went to the kitchen to say hello to my aunt. My aunt is from Tianjin, and the preference for sons over daughters is very serious. (For example, only do what the son and his father like to eat, and usually turn a blind eye to his daughter. It was not until later that I told her that my daughter had the power to kill my aunt that she began to pay attention to her daughter. ) I was so happy to see Aunt Lang Lang that day. While cooking jiaozi, she called her friend to announce that Lang Lang was coming home to eat jiaozi's bag, and even exaggerated that the star was approachable. Later, my aunt will be very modest when there are any guests in the music industry at home. When I met an impolite guest, she said to me, "Even Lang Lang is so polite to me. Who is he? "

At sunset and dusk, the breeze blew, and Lang Lang had dinner with us by the swimming pool in the backyard. I got up, went to the living room to play many times before and after I got up, and kissed two children. A chubby aunt, like a light butterfly, happily shuttles between the kitchen and the backyard. Looking back on that night, it was really the best time of my life.

I still remember a little scene before dinner. Anna is soaking in the swimming pool. Father asked Lang Lang if he wanted to get wet in the swimming pool. Lang Lang seems to be talking to himself and telling us that his life is the piano. He has never learned to swim. He stood by the pool, the sky was high and the clouds were light. How can ordinary people understand the path he has taken? I always remember that scene. I asked myself if I would let my daughter live a life in which music is life and music is higher than life.

Later, I heard Anna's Ukrainian piano teacher say, "I studied piano all my life, and in the end I just taught piano." My willingness to let Anna learn piano professionally has wavered little by little.

However, regardless of major or not, Anna has become her eternal music friend, and at least there is one regret in this life.

It is said that Anna grew up under the influence of music. Besides going to large classical concerts, there are many small indoor concerts at home. Later, Anna used the piano to accompany her father who played cello professionally from time to time. After the Wenchuan earthquake, my family went to new york to participate in the fund-raising charity activities organized by Columbia University. My father and daughter performed a classic meditation composed by British composer Frank Bridge. My mother was seventy-six years old that year, and we went through those days in America together. Now scribble a few words, as if in a previous life, with tears in my eyes.

I don't know why my love for music has always been in my second brother's genes. My second brother said it was a folk song sung by my aunt who brought us up since childhood. It's hard to trace back. I think music and beautiful words should inspire me in my life and bring me more feelings than any other art form. Fortunately, music (as if) has not been packaged as an exclusive luxury. Beethoven's Ninth (I don't mean the music score, but the music blood flowing in the music score) can't be auctioned like Van Gogh's works, otherwise few people will be shocked by it. Every piece of music always has the opportunity and process of creation, re-creation and continuous re-creation, which is also the most unique place of music.

By the time my brother started to learn piano, I had left the soil that nourished Anna's music cells with my children. My sister has been playing the piano since then, which has had some subtle influence on my brother. However, compared with my sister, my younger brother seems to be most influenced by me, a madman who occasionally sings and professes. It seems very much like the influence I heard from my aunt's folk songs, and it is not elegant.

With wordless guilt, I played the piano for the boy. My attitude is that I want to learn, but I don't learn to play. He said to go to class. He won't go unless he says it. He said that he would take the exam if he passed the exam, and he would not take the exam if he failed.

In this way, he followed his sister's footsteps to participate in the music summer camp for several years, made many friends who studied music, and occasionally cooperated with his sister in a few songs, so that he could find pleasure in music. Although he was criticized by his father for being too informal and casual every time he returned to the United States, the current violin teacher still praised him for his feelings. It is said that his music theory has reached the university level, and his music practice is said to be above Grade 8. He plays the leading role in the school orchestra, although I haven't seen him at the school concert once this year. (Note: I caught it once today, May 10! Grateful! )

Starting from this year, the boy plays the piano from time to time. Sometimes when I play the piano, I come to me with a full face of affection. After the play, he said, "Mom, whatever you say. A Cheng is talking to you. I really like playing the piano. "

This is a lot of nonsense. It's been all morning. It is also a commemoration of an ordinary day. Time flies and life flies. Every day is worth cherishing and living again.

Wei Xiang

Shanghai, Mumbai, Hyderabad, on the plane, Bangkok and Tokyo airports, 2019may1-10.