Folding chrysanthemums to send acacia

"On sunny and rainy days, I fold chrysanthemums to send lovesickness, and the harp sings."

Tomb-Sweeping Day returned to his hometown to worship his ancestors. Before the festival, there was a light rain. At this time, rain is people's parting thoughts, and their voices are hoarse. The willow branches on the roadside just spit out a little new green, as if sending an old friend to the dam. This is also a day in April.

Qingming is a clear memory and a kind of sadness that refuses to be erased. Suddenly cold and warm, dragging my tired body on the rugged mountain road. I seem to have been gone for a long time. A cold wind passed sideways, and the wind mixed with dust blew on my face, which made me unable to open my eyes. I can't help but try to mix in the sweat of loess, and my steps seem to be faster. I can't wait to fly to the yellow land of my hometown to pay homage to my grandparents. Crows hovering in the sky are tearing at their voices.

"I don't see you, my hometown is far away, and my thoughts are still there;" The cave was abandoned, but the homesickness remained. "Thinking of my old hometown, I miss my lost relatives inexplicably. Back to my hometown, I held hands with my hometown. Hometown is an old wine brewed by Youzi with red sorghum. The longer it is put aside, the more mellow it tastes.

The plain land breeds the purest homesickness; The ancient caves are full of homesickness. However, no matter how beautiful the past is, it can't stop the pace of time migration. In the years of circulation, too many sons and daughters of the yellow land have shouldered heavy bags, bid farewell to their hometown of life, and embarked on a long journey of pursuing the unknown world. Hometown, caves and relatives have all become a trace of melancholy that lingers in the dream.

Maybe it's because I have a deep memory of my childhood, or maybe it's because my childhood was confined in such a limited space. I miss the feelings of my old friends very much, and I always feel that the thick earth walls and strong caves make people living in them very practical. I have always thought that there are many legendary historical stories about the ancient loess walls and relatives living in caves. Only these caves have witnessed the simple deceased relatives here and your poverty, joys and sorrows.

I went back to my hometown, and I finally came back. This is not a dream. Grab a handful of loess and hold it tightly in your heart. The feeling of holding home is warm and always warm in my heart. The smell of loess is intoxicating. Close your eyes and think about my deceased relatives, my grandparents and my grandparents. . . When I came to the grave, I knelt down to my sleeping relatives with a pious heart. Intermittent trivial tidbits, on this special day, are abrupt and precious, sad and sad, and reach the hearts of the people. Disappointment, melancholy, and complicated emotions followed. With the fireworks rising in the paper, it was filled with the smell of earth.

"slap a shovel of loess and cover it with a layer of grief; Plant a bunch of new branches and a hole to remember. " Tears return to the grave, and a little bit of old things haunt my heart.

I remember the past clearly. I went back to my hometown to visit my grandparents every year since I was a child. Whenever I walk into the village, I can see my grandmother with crutches for most of her life, holding my grandfather's arm and waiting to greet us at the gate.

Grandparents have left us for many years. In the past few years, I have often thought of you, and I have always wanted to write some nostalgic articles to express my thoughts. It will be Tomb-Sweeping Day in a few days. At this time, your voice and smile always appear in front of my eyes. The floodgate of emotion was vented again, and tears blurred my eyes. I will never forget the impression my grandparents gave me in my life. Movies can still be played in cycles, stories can still be told repeatedly, but there is only one life, and I will never see you again.

Both grandparents died in their nineties. Your life journey is the best and truest portrayal of modern history. You have tasted the ups and downs of life. Your life is simple, kind, hardworking, strong and kind, which brings together the traditional virtues of the Chinese nation.

Grandpa once participated in the Eighth Route Army, and after changing jobs, he has dealt with the yellow land all his life. Grandparents didn't achieve much in their lives, but you raised six children with hard work and sweat. In a difficult situation, you never complained about pain and tears, and you walked down strongly all the way. You have spent your whole life cultivating your offspring with your words and deeds.

You have been charitable and peaceful all your life. No matter relatives, friends or neighbors, no matter who is in trouble, they always keep in mind and help each other enthusiastically. Grandma often said, "It's better to give a bite when you don't have time than to give a bucket sometimes." Simple words, warm and touching, warm people's hearts. You are the best encyclopedia in my life.

Now that you're all gone, you've taken everything. You left us no legacy, only your appearance, hard work, virtue, kindness and generosity, which is the greatest wealth for me.

I met you several times in my dream. Grandpa said your pillow was low, and he wanted me to help you raise it a little so that you wouldn't see your house. Grandma says your clothes are a little thin. Let me take out your favorite cotton-padded jacket to keep out the cold in winter. In my dream, you nagged me to go home often, live in a century-old quadrangle with warm winter and cool summer, and try my grandmother's jiaozi, fried cakes with stuffing, and my favorite cold dried beans and scrambled eggs with leeks. . .

Now it's all just a dream.