"Old Friend"

The cherry blossoms are blooming.

One of my uncles left during this season, when cherry blossoms are flying and catkins are fluttering.

The sun outside the window was so bright. On the hospital bed, a middle-aged man who had been decadent for half his life coughed with an abnormal blood color on his face and asked: "I really, really, want to, cough ,,,cough,,,are you dead? ", His breathing became slower and slower, and gradually stopped. No one cried, everyone could only feel deep tiredness. After a while, the doctor came in, and then, the still warm body left my sight and disappeared in the deep corridor.

People only know how to cherish when they lose. The time for everyone to know this truth is different. Some people lose a relationship when they understand, and some people lose their lives when they understand. This uncle of mine was a man who lived half his life in confusion. When he was young, he gambled with others and used his own leg as a bet. As a result, he paid the price of being disabled for more than 20 years in vain. Later, his ideals were disillusioned and he drank alcohol every day. I quarreled with my aunt all day long. He was so self-destructive that no one, not his son or his wife, shed a single tear at his funeral. On the first seven days, it started to drizzle in the sky, and the willow branches were fluttering, as if to say goodbye to someone leaving. My mother couldn't help but cry. I didn't understand it very well until I knew that this was disgusted by my wife and son. That valuable quality in a middle-aged man.

In the 1990s of the last century, there were still no street lights on the streets. Brick and tile houses could be seen everywhere. Only the main roads in the city had cement roads. At that time, a trip to the countryside was no less than Get out of the province. The road is full of potholes and there are only three-wheeled vehicles for transporting people. The three-wheeled vehicle drags a carriage. The interior of the carriage is very simple, with two long benches facing each other. The only way to get into the countryside is by bicycle. People always hang their bicycles on Outside the carriage, my home is about forty or fifty miles away from the countryside. This forty or fifty miles is the only means of transportation. The bumpy journey makes people feel dizzy and tired. My mother is shaking with me in her belly. When I returned home in the carriage, I had just bought a house with no savings at all, and I had been in this world for almost eight months. My father was anxious and anxious, and his mood was as irritable as the eve of a summer rain. At this time, that middle-aged man, a middle-aged man who walked with a limp, a middle-aged man who was only in his thirties but looked very old, appeared at my door and solemnly handed over the money to build a house at home to my father. He went up and hurried back without stopping, without even taking a sip of water. Later, my father found out that this man who looked so decadent had come all night from a place forty or fifty miles away. After returning home, he lay in bed for a whole week. He got out of bed and walked without saying a word of complaint. My parents told me that there are actually many such things.

My uncle is an ordinary person, a person whose shortcomings can even cover up all his advantages. I don’t know what others think, but I know that he is a person worthy of respect. Although the humility given to him by the world made him huddle in a corner where the sun could not reach, he still used his humble courage and dignity as a human being to fulfill the simplest promise. The second year after my uncle's death, a group of us came to the short mound. The fragrant grass gradually stained his tomb. I closed my eyes and heard the wind blowing by, and the setting sun. The meter-high tombstone cast a long, slanted shadow. I walked to the willow tree, broke off a trunk with all my strength, and inserted it gently into the small mound. Then I stood in front of the tombstone, just like before. He kowtowed three times solemnly.

Everyone is destined to die. It may be heavier than Mount Tai or lighter than a feather. There are only a few people in this world who can be passed down through the ages. Most of them are like feathers or catkins, drifting away with the warm spring breeze in the bright spring light, but they have left behind some unforgettable memories that will be remembered by future generations. When remembering, these precious beliefs are integrated into the pieces of cherry blossoms, into the wisps of catkins, and into the warmest sunshine.