The ink frequently added tears of mourning, and recalled Grandpa's sentimentality. My grandfather, whose surname is Yang, was born in Xiyang Town, born in the last year of Xuantong (1911), died in 1989, at the age of 78.
My grandfather's life was very legendary, I knew very little about the first half of my grandfather's life, and many stories were told by my mother. My grandfather married three wives in his lifetime, the first lady Cao Shi was killed in the 1930 Xiyang Town Unjust Case, the second lady Wang Shi died of maternal difficult childbirth, the third lady Hu Shi was my maternal grandmother, and my grandmother was also my own aunt (my parents were uncles and cousins).
Although my grandfather married three wives in his lifetime, the surviving child had only one daughter, my mother, and one of my uncles was said to have been bitten to death by a mad dog. According to numerology, the fate of grandpa's birthday was too hard, and the three ladies only accompanied him through fifty-five spring and autumn seasons, and they did not end up, and their children were not so prosperous.
In the 1930 XiyangZhen Unjust Case, a total of 114 people were killed, and my grandfather's family was killed by my great-grandfather and Cao's grandmother... I can't remember my grandfather's account of how many people in his family were killed. At that time, my grandfather was milling rice (at that time, farmers always took advantage of the mill in the middle of the night), and my grandfather heard the roar of the wolf on the mill, and the cries of the old and young women and women, and I was so frightened that I quickly went into the straw pile, and my heart was terrified, and my face was like the color of earth, and even the atmosphere did not dare to come out. Because Grandpa got up in the middle of the night to grind rice, he escaped being killed, which can be described as a great difficulty and not to die, but there is no blessing.
Grandpa joined the peasant association organization and the Red Guards as early as the jute uprising, joined the Red Fourth Front in 1931, followed the Red Fourth Front in 1935, fell behind on the road to the west, and returned to his hometown. Grandpa told me that when he returned to his hometown with a rifle with him, he threw the rifle into a pond for fear of being found and interrogated by the Kuomintang troops on the way. In the campaign to clean up the ranks of the classes in the seventies of the last century, the task force suspected that my grandfather had handed over the gun to the Kuomintang army, and had always worn a counter-revolutionary hat on him, and in the eighties it was proved that the facts were clear and that he was rehabilitated.
Grandpa's life was turbulent and displaced, with hardships and hardships. When he was young, he ran around, and when he was middle-aged and old, he caught up with the construction of the pontoon river reservoir icon, and moved the Chen family rice farm in response to the call of the state... After living in the Chen family rice farm for a few years, he returned to Xiyang Town, moved out and moved in, and the family was destitute.
In my childhood memories, my grandfather was so old, like an old fairy, and I didn't know how old he really was. They shaved their heads all over the four seasons, and the wrinkles on their faces spread like a net. The eyes were deeply sunken into the eye sockets, appearing exceptionally cloudy, and the mouth was full of few teeth, making the cheeks also sink like dry soap horns. The beard on his chin is as white as frost and he speaks forcefully.
Grandpa was often naked in the summer, and from the outside of his loose and wrinkled skin, he could count the ribs on both sides. The lower body was a pair of black and blue half-shorts with loose pleats with white trim at the waist. Grandpa was always so tired that I never saw him rest at home for a day and a half.
In winter, he often wears a black cotton robe, wears a black gauze hat on his head, and sometimes sits under the eaves with a fire can in his hand, slightly closed eyes and stays motionless in the sun, looking like a "statue" from a distance.
When I was just one year old, I was fostered in my grandfather's house. My father had six brothers, at that time I had many cousins and sisters, my grandparents could not take care of them, my parents were state cadres, and they had less time at home, only to send me to my grandfather's house, and even my brother was born in my grandfather's house.
My grandfather was the man I respected the most like my parents, and he dedicated his life's love to my family. My grandparents didn't return to their home until I was 8 years old, when three of my siblings, about the same size, were all of the age to eat long meals. At that time, we relied on the work to grab grain, and the more grain we earned, the more grain we earned, and the less grain we earned. My father worked outside the home, only my mother earned work alone, the grain that my family deserved was always robbed by other people's families, the grain was always not enough to eat, and my mother always got up early and greedily to collect grain in the field where the grain was harvested collectively to maintain a basic life.
Although my mother was tired of wearing stars and wearing the moon, it was still not enough for my brothers and sisters to eat. At this time, Grandpa was already the year of the flower armor, his face was covered with wrinkles of different shades, he saw his daughter struggling, he always planted his own vegetables every morning in order to make his grandson less hungry and cold - cowpeas, eggplants, cucumbers, pumpkins... Crossing the mountains and walking all the way from Xiyang Town to my home, this scene made my heart flutter and tears in my eyes.
Nowadays, I have run from flower armor to the ancient rare people, counting that my grandfather has been dead for more than thirty years, and now whenever I think of the childhood time with him, my heart will swing with infinite mourning, and sometimes I can't help but burst into tears, and I can't help but sigh the ruthlessness of the years and the shortness of life for no reason. More than thirty years of time have gone with the wind, but the memory has never been blurred, it is like a soldering iron, deeply imprinted in the heart of many past events, so that people can feel its existence all the time.
Although my grandfather has been away from me for more than thirty years, his voice and smile will always remain in my memory, which makes me remember it vividly. Grandpa, you have dedicated all your light and heat for your daughter and your grandson, and your thick quality, kind face, and hard-working and simple spirit will always inspire me to do things well. I wish my grandfather all the best in another world.
Hu Chengguang
In 2021, Ji Qiuyue was written in Sheng Jia fa