"Remembrance of the Age of Water" XVI

I was very upset that I had not been able to say goodbye to San Lou, but I left anyway, because I only wanted to return to my grandmother as soon as possible: ever since I came to this small town, whenever I missed my grandmother and imagined what she would do alone, the image that came to my mind was still the grandmother who was with me, but I erased myself, without considering how much pain I would cause her when I was not by her side; now, I was eager to return to her arms at once, to get rid of the one who was pestering me. An unexpected ghost suddenly summoned by her voice. It was the ghost of an elderly grandmother who was sure to have been separated from me.

It was the first time I felt my grandmother was old. She was alone, resigned to her fate, and stayed in an empty room.

When I suddenly walked into the living room (without informing my grandmother in advance), it was this ghost that I saw at first sight. My grandmother was reading a book. As I stood in the living room (or rather, I hadn't gone into the living room yet, because she hadn't found me yet), I saw her brooding, thinking about problems that had never been exposed to me, as if secretly doing a needlework, and when someone came in, she hid it at once. I am the only witness, I am the only spectator, I am dressed in travel attire, I am an outsider, I am a photographer, to take pictures of places that I will never see again in this life – it is a privilege, although it will disappear in the blink of an eye, but

The moment we got home, we could unexpectedly see what we weren't doing when we weren't home.

The moment I suddenly saw my grandmother, my eyes did take a picture like a camera. We see that dear people have always had to go through the lingering processing of warmth, processed in the eternal movement of warmth, not waiting for the faces of loved ones to leave an image in our minds, and the warmth first rolls the image into the whirlpool, so that it sticks with the consistent impression in our minds and merges into one. Since in my imagination my grandmother's forehead and cheeks reflected the most frequent and delicate feelings in the depths of her mind, since every habitual gaze had a charm, and every beloved face was a mirror of the past, how could I see the increasingly dull and aging image of my grandmother? Moreover, our eyes reflect our thoughts, and in even the most insignificant places in life, our eyes will be like a classical tragedy, dismissive of things that have nothing to do with the plot, and only retain images that can make the plot understandable and understandable. But if we look at things not with our eyes, but with a purely material thing, with a camera.

If God occasionally makes a cruel joke with us, so that our flexible and pious tenderness does not conceal in time what is absolutely impossible for us to see, but lets our eyes be the first to arrive at the scene, to move freely, to work mechanically like a camera, then what we will see will not be the familiar image of our warmth which is cloaked in a precious and false cloak countless times a day, but a figure that only death will show. In fact, if it were not for the warmth and every means to obstruct it, we should have seen this figure a long time ago. For me, my grandmother was still a part of myself, and I always came to see her through my own mind, through transparent memories that were similar and overlapping. She was always past a certain period of time for her.

A patient who has not looked in the mirror for a long time, usually imagines what his face looks like according to the ideal image, when he suddenly sees his true image in a mirror, when he sees a dry and desolate face with a large Pink nose of the Egyptian pyramid, he will be frightened to take a step back, I am like this patient, when I am in our living room, in this living room that belongs to a new world, a world of time, a stranger who lives "grows old with time", Suddenly, I saw a depressed strange old woman sitting on the couch, reading a book in the dim and dull red light, full of heart, full of heart, full of sickness, a pair of somewhat abnormal eyes moving back and forth on the book, at this time, I saw for the first time the real image of my grandmother's exhausted, old dragon clock, but in just a moment, because this image disappeared in a blink of an eye.

When we suddenly find out every day that our parents have become so old, and our faces are crawling with the marks of time, but we have never been together.

Subtracting from life becomes simple and bright