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(Local Prose) Old People in Their Hometown

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My hometown is an obscure plain town in the southwest of Shandong Province. Our village is the same as other villages in the town. If it is not busy with farming or festivals, it is difficult to see a few young faces.

Perhaps it is because young people have gone to the outside world, and the originally lively village has gradually become deserted. Walking in the village in broad daylight, I saw several old people sitting in the sun in a daze and heard the sound of dominoes coming from a yard across the wall. There is no sign of anyone in the vast Wangjiazhuang.

With the young people gone, Zhuangzi is much older. The old man in Zhuangzi is the same as the old man. Tooth loss, sparse hair and mottled skin are signs that people are getting old slowly. The collapse of earth walls, barren fields and overgrown yards are all symbols of the gradual decline of Zhuangzi.

Bending down and busy all my life, my youth and strength were soaked in sweat. But in the end, the harvest of the old people in the village was nothing but gaunt faces and painful illnesses. Even so, the old people dare not complain about the land at all. The reason is simple and sad, because they still have to rely on the land under their feet to spend their twilight years.

Old people in the country are different from those in the city. They don't have a pension of five or six thousand yuan, and they don't have the leisure to raise flowers and walk birds. In Wangjiazhuang, many old people are obviously seventy years old, but they still have to roll up their trouser legs and work in the dark from morning till night.

Those old people who really can't get out of the fields will not be willing to be idle, or keep a nest of goats in the yard, or open a vegetable garden in the corner, and dare to feed a flock of ducks in the yard even if they are not afraid of falling ..... Only through these jobs can they save some personal money.

This money-not surprisingly, a small part is left for the old man to see a doctor and take medicine himself, and most of it is given to the younger generation who kowtows to him to pay New Year greetings.

It's easy to get bored when people are old. In order to relieve boredom, the old people in their hometown especially like to get together in groups of three or five to wipe dominoes. Dominoes are not for winning several individuals' money, but mainly for talking with neighbors of similar age.

A few decades ago, talking and laughing, people suddenly became young. But the old man knows that this youthful energy is illusory, and when the poker field is over, it will push people back to reality.

Although I have never heard of the word "the past is like the wind", the old people in my hometown do feel that many past events have been blown apart by the cold north wind in southwestern Shandong.

Decades of north wind blowing down, not only in the past, even his original strong body, but also like a broken car about to fall apart-an elderly man, with such a hunched waist, shaking hands and wobbly legs.

Once the legs fail, the old people are afraid to leave the crutches. With this "leg" made of cypress that will never suffer from gout, the old people can walk out of the yard and show their faces on the street corner; More daring, still dare to run to Jia three or four miles away.

Old people in rural areas are never willing to spend money indiscriminately. They go to the market not because they lack anything at home, but because they are looking forward to meeting their old friends whom they haven't seen for many days. Even if we don't meet, it's good to ask some information from young people we know.

At that time, when my mother and I went to the market, we often saw an old lady holding hands at the gate of the market. Maybe it's because we are a little hard of hearing and our faces are almost stuck together, but we still raise our voices very high.

When chatting, the old people's reactions are also different, some are sighing, some are silent, and even quietly shed tears. At that time, I vaguely felt that when people get old, they must experience "sad separation" more often than "happy combination"

Strange to say, when people are young, their tastes are different, but in their later years, their tastes are inexplicably unified.

When I was a child, I found that all the teeth of the old people in Wangjiazhuang had fallen out, so did their eating habits. They all like to eat yellow apples and drink sweet red taro, and put a plate of shredded pickled carrots dipped in sesame oil on the dining table ..... Even when they eat, they all like to listen to a folk song or dulcimer, and the old people are actually enjoying the plain tea and rice in front of them in the babbling tune or the dulcimer.

After eating, old people usually don't get up immediately to wash dishes. They either lie in bed for a while with the music of the radio, or help the cat under the table chew a few mouthfuls of steamed bread carefully until they feel that all the food in their stomachs has been digested, and then slowly clean up the dishes and chopsticks.

I guess my eyes are a little bad. Even if you are decent and exquisite when you are young, once you are old, the pots and pans in the nursing home will inevitably be dirty.

Seeing that the kitchen is getting more and more messy, filial sons and daughters will sincerely persuade the elderly to eat and live with themselves. Old people in rural areas will never leave their old yards unless they have to.

"The golden nest and the silver nest are not as good as their own grass nest!" Compared with tall buildings, Simmons, chicken, duck and fish, the elderly in rural areas prefer party houses, hard beds and red taro at home. For nothing else, they just want to protect the bricks and tiles of the old house, and just want to accompany every grass and tree in the yard.

Young people probably don't understand that the grass nest in front of them seems deserted and messy, but it is a rare sustenance and yearning for the elderly in the world.

This reminds me of the scene when grandma's old house was knocked down-when everyone shouted their songs and pushed the wall together, grandma deliberately avoided it; When she came back, the old house had been razed to the ground. Grandma was silent for a long time, and her face looked like a homeless child.

......

I don't know if it's my illusion or the truth. I feel more and more that as time goes on, the old people in the village seem to age faster and faster.

Some old people, who were in good health last year, were defeated by the years in less than a year, paralyzed and blind, and some even committed themselves to loess.

When I went back to my hometown, I couldn't bear to wander around the village, because once I saw a wooden door with dark yellow burning paper, I knew that the old man in this room had been taken away by the boundless expanse.

This is the fate of every old man in his hometown. Even Mrs. Yang, who was praised as the most blessed by everyone, was buried in the wild at the east end of the village the year before last.

Maybe they have long understood this fate. Once the old people in their hometown are over 70 years old, they always laugh and laugh at themselves in front of everyone, "half their bodies are buried"; What's more, some families with spare money have prepared black painted coffins in Westinghouse.

When I was young, I was afraid of that black man who was seven feet three inches tall. But now, I don't think it's that terrible-as for the reason, even I can't say clearly.

Maybe this has something to do with my frequent visits to the old residents in the village.

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