My mother has a great grandson.

I have always stubbornly believed that when the news of the birth of my eldest grandson McDull reached home, the happiest relative should be my mother. Her grandson, my son, got married and had children. She has a great-grandson, and she became a great-grandmother. My father in bad karma didn't see this scene, but my mother actually felt this rare happiness. Since then, our once crumbling poor family has become a rare big family with four generations living under one roof in the village.

In my memory, my impression of grandma is vague and broken, scattered and rare. I was about three years old when I was born, and my grandmother died of illness. Grandma, who was hastily buried by her father, should have left this cold world with endless regrets and unwillingness. In my limited memory, I was always held in my arms by my grandmother and sat in the crowd by the pond. One scene is particularly clear, probably on a snowy day in winter. In a warm cave, my mother and grandmother sat on the hot kang and watched me play. So what did they say? Now I guess I want to see whose nest Honger is going to. The so-called nest is a cradle-like space naturally formed by adults sitting cross-legged on the kang. I still remember very clearly that I stepped on my mother's nest and my grandmother's nest without favoring anyone. The laughter that day was still warm and touching. Their mother and son laughed their heads off and burst into tears. Unfortunately, I was too young to remember what they said.

My mother became a grandmother at the age of 47. First, the daughter was born, and less than a year and a half later, the son was born. Not long after marriage, when two children were born, mother was naturally happy from ear to ear. She is one of the earliest grandmothers in the village. Since then, the mother who has worked hard for this poor family for most of her life has also begun to pay selflessly for her grandchildren.

In those years, I was busy at school, and my wife lived in the village with two children. Although I didn't see much directly when the child grew up day by day, the mother's contribution is self-evident. In the middle of the night, the mother first came to comfort her wife and treat the child. Sometimes go out to buy medicine in the middle of the night. At that time, I lived in a cave at the bottom of the village. I had to go to the village health center and climb a winding steep slope. At night, I was so miserable that I dared not think about it.

Children who babble grow into charming teenagers, children who start school, and their parents become nannies to pick them up. After I went to middle school in the town, my wife began to sell wool to subsidize the family. I have been in school for many years, so I naturally have no time to discipline them. So the two children followed their mother until they graduated from primary school. In those six years, my mother was busy working in the field, and she would come back to cook and wash clothes for them, and get up in the morning to send them to school. It is normal that the school is far from home and it is difficult to walk, especially on the long and steep slopes. When it rains and snows, it is simply suffering. In those days, I kept in mind how many falls my mother fell and slipped, and so did my children. Because she is not only physically hard, but also mentally unbearable.

Every night after school, when the two children come back, she will accompany her to do her homework in the dim light. Going to bed late and getting up early naturally becomes a habit. The mother who loves her grandson, seeing that her children's homework is difficult, even goes to school to intercede with the teacher, saying that there is little homework or even no homework, as long as they do well in the exam. However, the teacher agreed to this requirement based on the performance of children with excellent grades, which is incredible to think about so far.

Children in primary school have to help their teachers with hot water and cold water almost every week, which is undoubtedly a more arduous task for brothers and sisters who have just entered primary school. At that time, there was no running water at home, and the water used at home was picked up by my father from a farther and steeper eating ditch. How many times, either my mother helped me carry the thermos bottle or my father took them to school with a load of water. It was not until the fifth and sixth grades that they carried water and thermos bottles to school by themselves.

The long and steep slope witnessed the ups and downs of the moon. The sun at sunrise and sunset saw the acacia tree standing at the door in spring, summer, autumn and winter and did not forget it. The two hungry children who grew up day by day remembered it more. Because every time they get a certificate in the exam, they have to take it back to their mother to report the good news. Mom will turn over their awards and stick them on the wall. Just like when I got a certificate when I was a child, my mother wanted to praise me and treat me to scrambled eggs and cut meat.

The dim light reminded me of the time when my mother sewed cotton-padded clothes and shoes for them. I remember that since the baby was born, I have never worn handmade cloth shoes made by my mother, and sometimes I have to complain. Mother sometimes blames her explanation, and sometimes she doesn't speak. In fact, my mother's love for me is only transferred to my children, her grandchildren, and she has never paid less.

Last year, when my grandson McDull was born, I first called my mother to tell her the news. She said it three times in a row on the phone, so beautiful. I can hear happiness and satisfaction from her simple reply. When McDull had a full moon, accompanied by my daughter and her granddaughter, she made a special trip to Shanghai to visit her great-grandson. I know that the baggage that one of her daughters can hardly carry is full of a great-grandmother's love for her great-grandson. She sewed small cotton trousers, small cotton-padded jackets, small single shoes and small cotton shoes with different colors and patterns. I can imagine my 70-year-old mother, wearing reading glasses, sitting on a hot kang in winter and pulling her parents in the shade in summer. After finishing the housework, she sewed and embroidered one by one, which was the preparation she had made since my son and her grandson got married. There are also those shoes, hats, clothes and trousers that are soaked with mother's hard work, which one is not a handicraft. Those colorful leaves and flowers, those lifelike birds, animals, insects and fish seem to be singing in fragrance, which makes everyone sit up and admire.

Mom knows that she can't watch McDull grow up like a grandson, and she can't accompany McDull every day, so she must go to Shanghai to see McDull at the full moon and express the greetings and love of an old man to a hungry grandson with her most exquisite craftsmanship. Of course, my mother in Shanghai at that time should be the happiest memory of her old age, staying in the depths of time.

Almost every week, my mother calls me and asks if there is any hungry video of McDull. Her mobile phone is not smart. Whenever my elder sister visits her, she will take my elder sister's mobile phone and watch McDull's short videos over and over again. Mcdull's mother will see and remember the videos released in the baby-friendly software almost every month or even every week. Later, she told my son, remember to send more videos of McDull to your father or aunt. I miss McDull! I look at dolls when I want to.

Now that McDull is over one year old, he can go and call his parents. She called me and said that she really wanted to hear McDull calling his grandmother. I said no hurry, no hurry. When I come back from my summer vacation, I will accompany you to see McDull, let him shout enough and let you hug enough.

At the other end of the phone, my mother smiled, so happy and happy. Her innocent and simple laughter also infected me. Unconsciously, I also smiled. When writing this essay, in the class of self-study in the evening, I think my classmates must have seen the smiling expression that my mask can't cover, because they also smiled.