On the morning of December 24, my beloved aunt passed away. The sad news came and I was extremely sad.
My aunt watched me grow up. I was still young at that time, and my aunt lived in a village near my home. On summer mornings, I can often hear my mother talking to people while working in the yard or in the kitchen. I lay on the kang in the back room and could hear it with my eyes closed. My aunt must have brought fresh vegetables and freshly chopped green corn to my house. Every time, the old aunt, carrying a bamboo basket full of vegetables, stood outside the courtyard door and shouted: "Third sister! Third sister!" When my mother heard that the old sister was coming, she hurriedly opened the door and greeted her. The old aunt smiled and sent the vegetables to her mother, and the two sisters started chatting. In spring and summer, every time I went to my grandma’s house, my aunt would pick a lot of cherries or apricots for me, and the fresh fruit filling my mouth became an unforgettable sweetness in my childhood.
In the early 1970s, life was difficult for every family. During the Chinese New Year, my father and mother would take our siblings and carry trough cake, fruit wine and other new year goods to pay New Year greetings to my grandma. Then our siblings would take the gifts prepared by our mother to pay New Year greetings to our aunt and uncle. Mother, the second aunt, the old aunt, and the three sisters were sitting on the kang, chatting, smoking, and eating melon seeds. The old aunt brought the few New Year's Eve snacks and entertained a group of children who were like wolves and tigers. We kept eating in our mouths, sitting huddled on the kang, or playing Galaha, or listening to the adults talking, or going to the yard to step on the snow. The old aunt put melon seeds, candies, and apples in baskets and gave them to us, and we ate and played with them. The glass of the window is covered with thick ice flowers, which look like the fire phoenix flying in the clouds on the quilt of our house, or the paper flowers that grandma cut for our grandchildren, or more like the dancing pink butterflies on the hair tips of my cousins. The charcoal brazier was burning beside the kang, and the firelight reflected us. Our little faces were as red as the big apples brought by the old aunt.
When I was a child, I went to my aunt’s house by myself, and she always stayed with me to eat. My two cousins and I were having fun while eating, and sometimes we accidentally dropped our rice bowls on the ground. Upon seeing this, the old aunt got up quickly and served me another bowl. I was ignorant at that time, how precious food must be.
The old aunt has a straightforward personality and doesn’t hide anything when things happen. I like this kind of character of the old aunt. My mother once said to us: "Your aunt has a sharp tongue and a soft heart." Although my mother is the elder sister, she rarely refutes what her aunt says. Every time my aunt comes to our house, our siblings are very happy. At that time, food was scarce, so my mother often made braised noodles for my aunt. Many years later, my aunt said to me with a smile: "Second nephew, I eat a lot of your noodles!" I nodded with a smile.
My old uncle works on the railway and is very knowledgeable about radios in his spare time. In the early 1980s, television sets were in short supply. My old uncle assembled a 12-inch black and white TV for our family. On the day the TV was assembled and delivered, my aunt and uncle insisted on charging less. My father became more stubborn and insisted on charging less. I stood aside and watched that day, and I deeply understood what true relatives are.
After my father passed away, my aunt took my mother to live with her for a while. At that time, every time I went to my aunt's house, my mother would sit on the bed by the window, and my aunt would sit on the edge of the bed against the wall. The two sisters would smoke cigarettes and chat with me. Then my aunt and my cousins arranged the meals. After my mother passed away, every time I went to my aunt's house, she still sat on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette, chatting with me, and then preparing meals while I drank a few drinks with my aunt and cousin. Every time I go to my aunt's house, I feel so kind, so warm, and full of sweet maternal love.
sigh! The epidemic is wreaking havoc, my aunt is gone, this winter is very sad... Before I could finish writing this sentence, my tears welled up again.
I wish my aunt a good journey and no pain in heaven.
(Published at 21:15 on December 24, 2022)
