In the depths of our lives, there will always be some old times. In these precious old times, there are some unforgettable people and things, they were originally alive, and suddenly one day, they disappeared for no reason. At that moment, you know the impermanence of life. Slowly, you grow up. When you grow up, you unconsciously have unspeakable sorrows, or even indelible sorrows.
When I was six years old, I said to my mother, "I'm going to eat 'rabbits' (the next kind of hand-kneaded noodles in my hometown)." "My mother told me to go to my father. The father said: "This year the wheat is no longer planted, where are the 'rabbits' to eat!" "I didn't believe it, and I ran outside to look at it, as if overnight, the field was all planted with green rice, and there was a wheat tree. At the thought of never being able to eat such a fragrant 'rabbit' again, I ripped open my throat and began to cry vigorously, crying darkly and in a hoarse voice. But no matter how much I cried, the wheat field could never come back.
In that case, without anyone consulting me, the wheat field disappeared completely for no reason. Since then, all that remains in my memory is a vague dream. In a dream, when my friends and I were running in a wheat field, we would suddenly fly into the air. In the midst of everyone's exclamations, at first I was only two or three meters above the ground, but then I rose higher and higher, flying faster and faster, until I crossed the grass stacks, treetops, houses, flew over villages, rivers, wheat fields, and finally disappeared into the vast heavens and the earth without a trace. When I wake up from a dream, I will sit on the bed for a long time and feel sad for a long time.
When I woke up, it was time for me to help the family work in the fields.
Our family has a total of eight acres of paddy fields and a dry land. I've always disliked paddy fields because there are blood-sucking ants there. I prefer to work in drylands, where there are not only no nasty ants, but also many good and fun things. That dry land is far from my home, and it is mainly used to grow sugar cane, corn, sorghum and other easy-to-grow cash crops. When the hoeing grass is tired, it is easy to cut a sugar cane to quench the thirst; when the stomach is hungry, it will be eaten immediately by breaking a corn cob. It was close to the river, and after working in the afternoon, I first went to see others catch fish, and then jumped into the river to play in the water. Slowly, I thought it was my childhood paradise.
But there are also places there that I don't like. Next to that piece of land, there were two tall graves, and I don't know whose ancestor's "mansion" it was. At first, I was afraid in my heart, and while I was working, I silently thought: Our well water does not violate the river water, I do my work, you sleep in your sleep, don't look for me! One evening, my father and I were hoeing grass, when suddenly a plush thing popped out of the grave, which frightened me into shouting, and my father was so fast that he smashed it with a hoe. I grabbed it by the neck and lifted it up to see that it was a weasel. Thinking about the big and small holes in the grave, I finally understood why it was called Huangjiapo.
After going to junior high school, one day, I suddenly found that our family had not worked in Huangjiapo for a long time. Was the land left to someone else to plant, or was it engulfed by the paddy field next to it? In the end, it became a mystery in my heart. Then I thought, I should have asked my father, and my father must have known, but now he didn't have a chance.
My father was one of the few people in the village who loved to read. Since I was a child, I have loved to look for books to read, which is inseparable from my father's words and deeds. In the 1990s, when the family's financial conditions were very difficult, my father did not let us drop out of school, but encouraged us to continue to study. In order to provide for our three brothers to study, my father first tried to plant ginseng, pear trees, peanuts, and later, he contracted a factory in the village department to set up a rice flour processing factory. In the last years of his life, my father traveled every day between his home and the county seat, working odd jobs at construction sites contracted by relatives to earn money for me to go to college and subsidize my family.
My father left us suddenly that autumn. At that time, my brothers were all married and had children, and after graduating from college, I joined the army, and the living conditions at home began to improve. To this day, my mother often says: Your father is not worth walking, he has suffered a lot in this life, and now his life has become better, but he has not enjoyed a day of happiness and left. There was a word "Fu" in his father's name, but the name did not bring him much blessing.
"Hometown thinks of thousands of miles tonight, frost sideburns Ming Dynasty another year." Years ago, a wheat field had disappeared overnight; later, that paradise of childhood had also disappeared; eighteen years earlier, the man who loved me the most in my life had parted with me. If time can turn back, I want to eat a bowl of "rabbit" noodles made by my father himself, I want to compete with my friends for the toy that my father made with weasel skin, and I want to climb on my father's knee again and listen to him tell the story of "Three Kingdoms", "Water Margin" and "Yang Family General"... But that's all gone.
Where have you all gone in the old days that have disappeared for no reason?
One dot number one ink knows autumn