I haven't seen each other for a long time. The last time she was standing tremblingly at the door with a cane, watching me leave. I rolled down the car window and saw a trace of tears in the corner of my grandma's eyes.
"Farewell and reunion are dramas that keep playing in life. Once you get used to it, you will no longer be sad." As the writer Zhang Xiaoxian said, breaking and reuniting, life is like this. During my twenty years, my grandmother and I have been saying goodbye and reunited again.
When I was young, I always liked to snuggle in my grandma's arms, looking at the starry sky, imagining the ancient and mysterious legend behind the stars. The cool breeze blew across my cheeks, and a palm-leaf fan shook gently in the air, and carefully put it down. I fell into my dreams with her singing in my grandmother's arms, extremely gentle. Under the quiet night sky, a rattan chair swayed and shook, shaking the childhood story of my grandmother and I. Grandma's shallow eye sockets, calluses that have not been eroded by the years, and some white hairs are mixed in her hair, which are the lingering marks of time in my memory. At that time, "the boy did not know the taste of sorrow". Parting seemed to have nothing to do with me, and I just enjoyed the warmth of the present. Looking back at this time, I knew that parting was like water, but I didn’t know its taste, and I couldn’t taste the ups and downs.
Time flies, parting is like a dream, looming in the changing life. When I was in elementary school, three meals a day and a few "Grandma, goodbye!" became a daily routine. I always look forward to going home from school early, and look forward to seeing my grandmother embracing me early. She always holds snacks in her hands, and her face is filled with endless tenderness. At that ignorant age, I thought that if I could meet earlier by saying "goodbye" loudly, I kept calling the word "goodbye" particularly loudly. However, I did not understand its farewell intention, and felt that it was just a brief separation between me and grandma, and more of it carried my desire to go home. But after thinking about it, it actually had a meaning of parting, but people didn't know it.
Times pass by, the black hair on my grandma's head has long disappeared, I have grown into a girl in the eyes of adults, ready to welcome my first trip to the distance at the age of eighteen, and the farewell quietly comes. I still remember those pairs of eyes blurred by tears that autumn afternoon. The drizzle is drizzling, and the air is filled with a little moisture, which is spreading on the autumn fields in the countryside, adding a bit of sadness to the parting. The car was parked in front of the square meter and I carried my bulky luggage into the trunk. I always lowered my head, dared not look directly at my grandma, dared not look at her tears, even if it was just a glance, because after a glance, I would hide pearls. Grandma kept leaning against the door, watching me moving my luggage back and forth in the front ping. Her back was hunched, as if it was even more bent than before. Maybe grandma stood in front of me and only reached my shoulder, leaning on the vermilion crutch in one hand, smiling all over her mouth. This smile was probably the most heartbreaking smile I have ever seen.
Goodbye, grandma.
Yes, so...good...read with your heart.
There seemed to be too many words in the choking voice that were too late to say. I left, and I held back my tears and looked at the roof of the car. Next time we will definitely meet better. Yes, only by saying goodbye and embarking on a new journey can we meet a better selves. It was only this time that I understood the true meaning of parting.
The star city in April is drizzling, layers of mist are shrouded on the mountain, and the roadside under the camphor tree is covered with fallen leaves. The breeze blows by, bringing blessings and greetings from those who miss you. I walked under the orange street light with an umbrella in one hand, and held my phone in the other, looking at my grandma on the screen, blaming the blurry night that made me unable to see my grandma clearly. "It's raining here, I'm going to go back to the dormitory. Grandma, I'll hang up first, beg." Even though the night is hazy, it still can't cover the gentle smile. I asked myself silently in my heart, did my grandma still hold her phone and wait for the screen to light up again? This is probably the case with a heart-to-heart relationship. "The tacit understanding happens every next second, falling in love with the same flavor of cake..." In the next second of Zhang Bichen , my phone vibrated. It was the phone call from grandma: "Sister, it's raining, it's cold, wear more clothes, don't catch a cold."
The rain stopped, the green light lit up, I crossed the zebra crossing, ran to the dormitory like a little rabbit who only found food, silently storing this tacit understanding and love in my heart...
I don't know how many farewells and grandma will say in the future, maybe not long, maybe it will take a long time. But I believe that every parting is a growth, it is the firmness of grandma's eyes, and the source of motivation for me to embark on the journey. Just as there will always be goodbye in life, but we will always have expectations.
The rain fell outside the window again. I sat in front of the window and thought that my grandmother from my hometown and my granddaughter from a foreign land once again "farewell" and "reunion"... In countless days, the hourglass of time turned back and forth, and the flowers could bloom again, but we could not start over. After saying goodbye, I hope everything will be the same as before, and don't let the years smooth out people's face.
Did grandmother think of me now? Sitting on the sofa, she must be counting the time carefully, hoping that when will her granddaughter return home.
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