Grandma: other people's grandma

When I was young, my father had a persistent prejudice against my grandmother for various reasons. Sometimes I don't like the prejudice, but looking at my little arms and legs, I have to bury my discontent in the bottom of my heart and occasionally murmur in protest. But after a long time, I was not so close to grandma.

Junior high school, fooling around in the same school as my cousin. One day it rained heavily, and none of my parents gave me umbrellas. They always believed that children should not be spoiled. You should learn to survive on your own, and you had better heal yourself if you catch a cold. It is even more impossible for my grandmother to bring me an umbrella unless the sun rises in the west. She has lived for a long time, the person she should like, the life is very arbitrary, after all, it is the level of the old lady, how can any younger generation get her green eyes, not to mention my father has always been rebellious, can not enter her eyes of 24 filial piety. In fact, it rains like this all the time, and I have no problem with it. Let's get wet. I'm not coquettish anyway.

However, I happened to see my grandmother.

In the past, people said that grandma must love her grandchildren more than me, and I would say that my grandma loved me, and then I got an unknown smile from adults.

She stood there with an umbrella, worried, perhaps because she was in a hurry, so she didn't see me.

I saw it. I saw her stuffing her umbrella to her cousin who ran in a hurry.

Then I walked away like an abandoned puppy.

Tomorrow, I will continue to go to school, the sun will continue to rise, and I will have a scar in my heart. It belongs to my grandmother and other people's grandmother.

College, left home; graduate student, left home; work, went home.

When I was in my thirties, I didn't learn how to be worldly, but the little bumps in my life made me remember embarrassment, pain, helplessness and sadness. I know that grandmothers who depend on their sons should be nicer to their cousins anyway. But you know what you know.

I never spend the night at my grandmother's house, nor do I want to talk to her. Day after day, my grandmother has become my most familiar stranger. But she always had me in her heart, and every year she would talk about making stinky tofu for me, just because I said in high school that her cooking was delicious.

My life has parents, friends, colleagues, very smooth rotation, leaving no gaps to warm my grandmother.

One day, my mother said that your grandmother was not feeling well and went to the hospital for an examination. I said I knew it, and then my mother didn't take it seriously and went on with her own business. In the evening, a phone call came, and my mother told me that your grandmother had cancer. I was confused for a moment, felt the smell of death, and felt the panic that someone close to me was about to leave. I, um, said that I knew.

Then came the routine examination, and then came the worst result: at a later stage, it had spread.

I suddenly thought of the leek flowers in my refrigerator, which my grandmother made.

My mother and I began to buy all kinds of delicious food for my grandmother to facilitate her life of all kinds of small things, we know that some things have to go, we can not stop.

During the Spring Festival, I went to grandma's house with my mother, and then pulled quack for her. Her cheeks were thin, her eyes were black and blue, and she was still thinking about making us something delicious. At that moment, my heart was filled with tears.

Author / Qin Zhongni