In Memory of My Uncle (2021.11.29)

My uncle

My uncle died 10 years ago, alone in the house, and was found by a neighbor long time later.

When I eat alone, I often think about it, and then yawn and hold back tears.

Suddenly I wanted to write a little text to commemorate, it seemed that I should have written it ten years ago, but the longer the memory was brewed like wine, the more real and clear it became.

Images are like photographs, scene after scene. He took the sage horse and looked at me with a smile; he carried the birdcage and served his thrush friend attentively; he pushed the bicycle, holding his head high like a great general, practicing his riding rules; he lay weakly, waving his hands instead of talking.

Uncle had joined the army, he was very smart and very strong, he had never learned the principle of mechanics, but he took the initiative to repair the machines in the army factory, and did not close his eyes for three days and three nights, resulting in serious insomnia, and had to change his profession and go home. I remember that everything he had came from self-study, constant practice and reasoning, such as repairing machines, raising birds, pulling erhu, making homemade water heaters, etc., and paying great attention to details, such as how to maintain the bicycle while riding a bicycle, pulling less brakes; how to stir-fry vegetables without oil, and so on.

He was extremely frugal and generous to outsiders, and once borrowed thousands of dollars from people who met in Pingshui, which was a huge amount of money for the income of ordinary workers like him in that era.

He was the best for me. When I was a child, I lived in his house, and after he paid his salary, he often secretly gave me new tickets and good food. Because I was too similar to him, he often said that I knew his intentions, which led to my conflict with my cousins and cousins. Of course, his intentions are difficult for ordinary people to guess, such as his heart is not good, he is very tired and does not want to talk, lying on the sofa, hands up, holding hands, leaning against the mouth, I guess he wants to pipe water, because he does not want to get up. None of his children's physiques resemble his, and it is difficult to understand.

He is persistent and incompatible with the personalities around him. Once one of the pigeons he had raised flew away, and in the persuasion of his family to give up, he crossed most of the city to chase, the pigeons flew in the sky, he ran on the ground, as if that was all his hope, and finally the pigeons were tired, and when they fell, he caught it. It's a magical and real thing.

He once stood up and blamed the leadership at the unit meeting where everyone was happy and happy, which caused an uproar. He also once accused a relative of being too stingy and not happy at a relative's gathering.

He has the goal of creating wealth. When the real estate was in its infancy, he offered to buy a shop, which was unanimously opposed and ridiculed by his family members, on the grounds that you had money? When I went to see him, I understood that this was a goal for him, and there was always a day to achieve it, and I remember that he immediately straightened his body, patted me and said: Or do you know my heart, they have no ideals, and always rudely interrupt me. Gradually, he talked less and less at home, and when I went to see him during the holidays, I always had to pull me to talk for a long time.

He often played erhu to entertain himself, but no one in his family had the patience to listen to his not-so-beautiful performances, so I was his loyal listener. Listening to his mother, when he was young, he wanted to go to the film studio, and without a teacher, he always groped and played the piano alone in the courtyard at night, and his grandmother was irritable and broke his piano. His piano is still in my office.

He loved to be lively, and he was finally isolated by his family, and his relatives, who had supported each other and were close to each other in the early years, gradually became estranged. He always sighed, and the thousand-year-old Tao was overturned. He lived alone, his cousin brought him meals, and sometimes he cooked his own meals. He was with the birds, the pigeons, the thrushes, the parrots, and talked to them. I often think of the way we went to him for the New Year, and he was excited and happy.

"People who can't hear the music think the people who dance are crazy." - Nietzsche

I remember after I was working, one time I was walking, and he suddenly said that I had failed in my life. He was an ordinary man, a good man, he had ideals, he didn't change reality.

When I learned that my uncle was gone, I asked where I had gone. I didn't shed tears for my relatives, because I didn't reach the point of tears, my uncle was gone, and I cried uncontrollably.

I insisted on going to see his body, and the others felt unnecessary. I saw him with his mouth open, and I couldn't see that it was him, and suddenly his chest was tight and his eyes were bursting with tears.

My uncle died, and I cried, as if I were crying to myself.

I still don't know where he was buried.