I believe in love. Over the ages, I have read a lot of strong words related to love, and most of what I read is the entanglement of love, the madness of love, the birth of love, and the demise of love.
My topic today has nothing to do with this, it is about the blandness and old age of love, it is a kind of white-haired love, it does not have any beauty, there is no suspense and conflict, it is intentionally or unintentionally missed by the literati and inkers who are afraid of the world, but I am sure that such a love can be seen everywhere, and it is close to what people say is eternal. I suggest that you look among your neighbors, and I suggest that you exclude the young glue-like lovers, and focus your eyes on the old and decaying couples, and maybe you will find the one.
Readers can hear that I have a pair of classics here. There is indeed a scripture here, my neighbor, who has been dead for many years now.
For as long as I can remember, they have not been young, and both of their daughters have been married. I remember the wife was tall and could tell that she was a beautiful person when she was young, and the husband was slightly shorter than the wife, but his eyebrows were also very good.
On many sunny days, they appeared on the street, the wife went to the well with a basin of clothes to wash, and the husband followed behind with a bucket; the wife slapped the quilt in the sun with her hand, and the husband handed him a rattan beat. Once I saw their daughter return to her mother's house with her husband and children, and the child knocked on the door outside, shouting, "Grandpa and Grandma open the door!" "There was a cacophony of footsteps inside the door, and the door opened, and I saw the faces of the old couple, one on the left side of the door and one on the right side of the door, and I was surprised to find that the corners of their mouths were crooked to the right when they laughed.
But the same smile is not enough to explain the old man's love. It all happened on the day the old woman died.
People always have to escape death, but the old woman died suddenly, it was a myocardial infarction. The neighbors on the street, while lamenting the death of the old woman, also worried about the husband, said: "What will the old man do when she leaves?" "What can the old man do?" He just silently guarded his wife's body, and the people who went to mourn saw his expression, not as sad as expected; he just sat there, calmly guarding his wife.
In the early morning of the next day, when the mourners had finally dispersed, the neighbors heard the two daughters weeping again, they thought it was another outbreak of the pain of the dead mother, and in the early morning, people saw the daughter of the old couple setting up another spiritual bed in the house, because their father also went!
This is not a novel I made up, it is a true thing, and an old man I know goes to heaven with his dead wife. The daughter said that when the father died, he had been sitting and looking at his mother, and later he closed his eyes. They thought he was asleep. Who would have thought that a person's death would be so easy and so free?
Everyone was shocked by this husband. Is it a no-brainer? No, in my opinion, the old man is taken away by love, and sometimes love is a fatal disease. I have since been superstitious about the rings of love, and if there is eternal love, it must be very old.
Author Su Tong