There was one little thing that had been haunting me for the past two days.
The day before yesterday, I came home from breakfast and met an old lady on the same floor as me in the elevator. She is 89 years old and pushes her wheelchair downstairs every day. Her wheelchair was stuck in the elevator, and I helped her upstairs.
The aroma of breakfast filled the elevator, and the old lady asked me, "Daughter, is it beef noodles?" "Yes, your nose is good!" She smiled mischievously, "This is my favorite, you smell it!" Where did you buy it? "The noodle shop at the intersection tastes authentic."
She said bleakly: "Hey, I'm old, my legs are not good, I can't go that far, and I can walk up to the supermarket around the corner." ”
The supermarket she said is 100 meters away from the community, and the intersection I am talking about is actually less than 2000 meters.
I said casually, "Your son buys it, it's very convenient." ”
The old lady had four children. Her husband died many years ago. She and her eldest son have lived here for a long time (the eldest daughter-in-law divorced her eldest son many years ago), and other children visit her every holiday.
She was silent for half a moment, but she choked up a little, "Hey, I can't expect him to sleep until late before he gets up..."
She wanted to say something, hesitated and then swallowed again, her eyes fixed on the beef noodles in my hand, a childlike naked greed mixed with adults.
I was going to tell her that the breakfast shop was open all day and I could eat anywhere.
But I was silent, because if it weren't for the hallucinations, I would have seen tears welling up in her eyes.
He was a son, but he was also an old man. He also has times when he is tired, tired, sick, and doesn't want to live anymore. Who cares about his later years?
And when he was 89 years old, whether the children would live with him, let alone beef noodles, he was already lucky to be able to arrange three meals a day.
What is the real test of life?
I think it is not the reading test of the student era, nor the purchase of a house and a car after adulthood, nor the struggle for success, but the most inconspicuous three meals a day, daily life.
Three meals a day is like a person who can't live without oxygen, but no one cares about breathing oxygen every day, thanking and cherishing.
The old lady's son cooked for her for so many years. It was a huge, wordless blank, just not made in a bowl of beef noodles, but turned into a dazzling, obtrusive stain, which was so unfair.
That day, after the door of the old lady's house was closed, it was never opened again. The door of her house creaked a little, and the sound of opening and closing the door was very loud and long, and the whole floor could be heard clearly.
After noon, thunder and rain began to fall in the sky, and it did not stop. The old lady did not eat a bowl of beef noodles, and she was almost in tears.
I wanted to knock on the door, pretend to go out, and bring her a bowl of beef noodles, but eventually decided to respect the way their mother and son got along.
Ask yourself, where is the simple life of a bowl of beef noodles? No one knows what kind of feud the mother and son have had in the past.
We always decorate love with all sorts of beautiful, great, mystical adjectives, reverently waiting for a deep, extraordinary moment to realize it.
Therefore, throughout his life, love has always been so superficial, rough, everyday, and existential, such as getting up early, walking two kilometers, buying a bowl of beef noodles, and then sitting together to complain. Ingredients given by the owner.
We regretted it in the dead of night. At dawn, we still had no heart and no lungs, too late to give the person in front of us a smile, a hug, a bowl of beef noodles that could only be bought by walking 2,000 meters.
Time can expire again and again until the most brutal moment comes – when you're old.
Most people know nothing about old age and cannot empathize with others. This is destined to be the most difficult stage of life. Some elderly people just live and meet the physiological needs of eating and drinking. This can be very difficult.
If old age is compared to a war without gun smoke, then three meals a day are a rain of bullets.
This old lady is not short of houses, nor is she short of money, and so on. How many old people have no house and no money, robbing under other people's walls? Of course, having money and having a house is never a bad thing. It's just that old age is not just as simple as having money and not having money.
At this moment, it began to rain again, and the group buying group in the community became active. Among the group was a woman in her eighties who was the leader of today's group.
She reminded me that it was still the noodle restaurant. An old man buys breakfast on crutches. He slid down the steps and couldn't get up.
I hope that good people will work hard all their lives, have money and a house, and have people to love. If they don't, I want you to love yourself more and having a good body is the greatest blessing.