Our family used to have many birthdays. I have seen as many as eight or nine people over ninety years old, both deceased and still alive. Let’s just say that we didn’t release Chineda in and . My biological grandmother and two other recent grandmothers both lived to be ninety-seven or eight years old before passing away. I still have three aunts. My biological aunt is also eighty-three years old this year. She is still very strong, not deaf or blind, nor bent nor bent. There are also two aunts who have served less than five years old. They are now in their nineties and are still in good health. They don’t have any major underlying diseases. I now have an uncle and an uncle who are both in their eighties. They can go out and walk along the bank of the Wen River every morning.
I heard my grandfather say that my grandfather's grandfather lived to be over a hundred years old. Our family was quite wealthy at that time. In the words of that time, our family was a rich man. My grandfather's father found four wives. We have this record in our family tree now. It can be seen that our family was considered a local rich man at that time. When the land reform came, our family situation declined and we became poor farmers. We were not criticized or had our property divided. It was just the right amount of poverty. My grandfather told me that his grandfather lived for more than a hundred years. I'm afraid no one knows exactly how many years he lived. Because since he reached ninety-nine years old, how old will he be again? He always said he was ninety-nine. How many years had passed since he was ninety-nine? No one can tell.
My grandfather told the story of his grandfather's death, which was incredible. That day, the old man had his body washed, and then he cooked a table of delicious food, and gathered the whole family together. After everyone had eaten, the old man refused to let everyone go. Then he had people take out the old clothes he had prepared and put them on, put a mat in the patio, and put up a lattice bed for him. Then, after someone had laid out the bedding, he lay down on it himself, and after someone covered him with it, he lay quietly on the bed. He would ask people to see where the sun was and report it to him, and then ask people to see it and report it to him. There were no clocks in that era. When the sun reached noon, the old man shouted: I'm leaving. Then two tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and the old man lost his breath.
At that time, when someone died, they had to invite monks to recite sutras and pray for salvation. The master also said that the old man had ascended to heaven and became a Buddha. This way of dying while watching Shi Chen die is indeed rare in real life. Has my old man really become a Buddha? This feels really weird. Passing away peacefully without illness or disaster is what many people dream of, and it should be the happiest way home in the world, right?
