The figure of my grandmother has always been imprinted in my childhood memories. Every time I went back to my hometown, my blind grandmother would express her love in her special way, caressing my head with her hands, calling my nipple name, saying that I had grown tall again. I remember my grandmother's tall stature, small feet and forever clean and tidy dress.
Grandma has been running her own flour workshop with Grandpa for most of her life. The old man's cleverness and grandmother's diligence made the family take care of the business like a combination of ten miles and eight villages. Although the family got up early and worked day and night, their lives were still rich and peaceful. Grandma is kind-hearted, willing to help others, and is a great benevolent person in the village.
Grandma's kindness and diligence have always influenced my mother, and to this day, when my mother mentions her grandmother, her words always carry a kind of admiration.
Later, everything that happened unexpectedly changed my grandmother's whole life. It was the movement of the sixties, and it seemed that overnight, Grandpa was divided into the objects of the village, touring the streets, raiding homes, criticizing ----- and underwent countless labor reforms, and the stubborn Grandpa never got up again as soon as he fell ill, and soon passed away. Like a nightmare, more like a disaster, in the blink of an eye, people went, the home was raided; the originally happy family became afraid of the "black five categories" of people. The sudden blow made the grandmother who had already stepped into the flower armor have no time to understand or understand. From the day Grandpa was beaten, Grandma couldn't sleep at night. In the winter when Grandpa left, the sad and angry Grandma never saw the light again.
Grandpa walked away, except for leaving this "destitute" home, what remained was the hat of the "rich peasant". My mother often said that this "hat" was "earned" by my grandfather after a lifetime of hard work. Later, this heavy "hat" crushed the family almost to the brink of collapse, making the family pay a painful price. The same effort but never the same harvest. For ten years, Grandma and her children and grandchildren struggled for ten years in the shadow of this hat.
It wasn't until I became an adult that I understood my mother's indignation at the mention of this "hat." There seems to be a kind of dislocation in my heart, and it seems that when I mention my grandfather, I will think of that "hat".
During the day, the relatives all went to work, and in the quiet courtyard, only grandma was left. Grandma in the dark somehow found a new partner from the day on, smoke. In the smoke, Grandma can quietly think back to the past, think of her grown grandchildren, and miss her daughter who is far away. Wisps of green smoke, taking away countless melancholy and uneasiness of grandma; wisps of green smoke, accompanying grandma through dark, long days and days------ ten years, smoke, seems to have become a stand-in for grandpa, but also a spiritual pillar of grandma. The grandchildren grew up day by day, and when they reached the age of talking about marriage, the shadow of the "hat" struck again and again, and made them frustrated repeatedly------ heard her mother say that on the day her eldest grandson received the marriage license, she excitedly held the marriage certificate with trembling hands, and her eyes were full of tears when she could not see the light.
Because her mother was far away from home, in order to fulfill her daughter's filial piety, her mother had taken her grandmother to her home in the city many times, but she could not get used to life here, and after living for a period of time, she still insisted on returning to her hometown to live with her uncle. In my young heart, I always remember vividly the two things my mother had to carry for my grandmother every time, one was braised meat filled with porcelain jars, and the other was Jinan's "Quancheng" smoke. At that time, braised pork and "Spring City" cigarettes were both luxuries of life. In the mother's heart, braised pork is a nutritional product for Grandma, and "Spring City" smoke is a spiritual supplement for Grandma.
Looking back now, I understand that at that time these two things condensed all of my mother's love.
In the tenth year after Grandpa left, Grandma went. She watched her children and grandchildren work hard and get rich, and she also went after meeting her great-grandchildren.
She walked peacefully and calmly, as if nothing had happened.
During the Qingming Dynasty, my uncle from my hometown called and said that I had gone to the tomb to see my grandfather and grandmother. I said to my mother that when I had the chance, I would also go to my grandmother's grave to see it, and when I arrived, I would bring braised pork cooked for my grandmother's own hands; and I would burn a cigarette for my grandmother. Let the green smoke bring me to my grandmother's thoughts.
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