This year, for the first time, the Southern Literature Festival joined hands with the "Nandu Non-Fiction Writing Growth Platform" to hold essay solicitation activities for all high school students in Shunde District. With the theme of "unforgettable", participants are asked to record and share their life feelings, thoughts and thoughts in the past one or two years in the form of non-fiction writing. The essay contest invites famous writers and editors to review. Nine students from Shunde No.1 Middle School, Beijiao Middle School, Guohua Memorial Middle School, Shunde Wende School, Shunde Desheng School and Beijiao Vocational and Technical School won the top three, and today's publication is the third place.
Unforgettable: Walk through the last days with Grandpa
Third place ◎ Beijiao Middle School Senior One (4) Class Liu Xiaoqing
Time pours fragments of memory into the endless sea, tumbling forward, hitting the beach hard, and retreating fiercely. Some of the debris was left on the beach by the waves, quietly waiting for a sea catcher to pick it up.
Grandma and Grandpa often quarreled, and the two of them held their own opinions, facing each other, waiting for me to shout "Don't argue!" "Will be separated with blackface." One goes inside the house, the other goes outside. The two have also lived together like this for most of their lives, both of them are strong, and neither of them will let the other.
Grandpa died, on the way back to his hometown. It seemed that the wind had taken him away, after all, during the time of his illness, his body was as thin as a crumbling dead leaf. Grandma used to shed tears when Grandpa was sick, in a room separated only by a wall from Grandpa, after hearing a fierce cough, when she saw a living man lying powerlessly on the bed, when she thought that this increasingly serious illness could not be recovered. She cried carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed and wiping her tears with paper, without making a sound.
I learned of my grandfather's death in the whispers of the adults. There was no wind and no clouds that day, the sky was a blue canvas, and the distant colors gradually became darker under the rendering of the afterglow, and the hazy in front of me seemed to be an illusion. Grandpa's burst of life that morning infected my emotions of the day, and even Grandma smiled a little. He leaned back on his pillow, asked me about my homework, and encouraged me to study hard—as if back to a simple concern when he wasn't sick yet. I sat in the car, the air frozen, the shadows of the trees layered on my knees, and the winding path that carried me back to my hometown. I saw him lying quietly in bed, as if asleep, the silent air freezing my brain, blankness sweeping through my perception, and in a flash I saw my grandfather who was in the hospital a year ago—a grandfather with a tube, like a rag doll. Two unforgettable figures overlapped each other, fragile and distant.
I stood puppet-like by the white bed, and My grandmother was helped over, and she fell to her knees crying, pounding her chest hard, tearing her heart out and shouting Grandpa's name, "Why leave me, you take me with you..." Looking at my trembling grandmother, my heart was also tugged together. Yes, ming said in the morning, "I will watch you grow up, study hard, and take grandpa to a fun place in the future." "Suddenly it left me.
It was completely dark, the stars were hiding behind the clouds, and the moon's shadow was jumbled across the doorway steps, like broken glass.
I spent those dark days in a trance, without crying, and I stood on one side, like an outsider, as if watching the joys and sorrows of others. The black-and-white portrait stared at me silently, and I looked back at him with nostalgia. Grandma looked at me deeply, didn't say anything, the corners of her eyes were slightly red, and she wanted to stop talking. The burial process was very fast, and everyone hugged each other hard to comfort each other and scattered. I came back from my hometown, just stepped through the door, and habitually looked up at that little room. Endless sorrow is a flood of lateness, flooding the heart, memories are roses, beautiful and painful, blood dripping from the heart, turning into tears. I lost him forever, my grandfather, the man who accompanied me growing up.
Grandma would sit in the doorway and look into the distance with a fan, while I would sit next to her and quietly watch our photo with Grandpa. The evening breeze is slightly cool, Grandpa's smile is bright sunshine, every time I think of it, infinite nostalgia, unforgettable.
Editor: Mannie You Intern Situ Congying