In the front, I will first compensate you for the officials.

After all, it was a matter of cutting off a month without letting go of a fart, and it was really not authentic to catch a horse.

The song should be transferred, and the words are divided into two ends.

He first went to Xi'an to attend a friend's wedding, but when he returned, he fell ill and was bedridden for several days before facing the death of a loved one for the first time in his life.

The word death seems to have always been far away from me.

The parents of the horse were born young, in their fifties, and they look like they are only in their early forties, and the two elders have lively personalities, as if they are the same age, and they never thought that the two elders would be 'old'.

I forgot where I saw a quote that said, "The reason why we feel so far away from death is because we are separated from our parents." ”

Catching the horse once felt that this was just a sentence of hypocrisy for the sake of giving new words, but now I feel it.

Parents are here, and there is still a place in life.

When his parents die, he has only the way back in his life.

Catching the horse witnessed how the father of the horse caught the horse changed from a middle-aged happy man to a little old man in half a month.

But about death... There's more to be said about catching horses.

The first time I had a concept of death was in 2004.

That year, he was still in elementary school, and one day, his father and Ma said that they wanted to go back to their hometown.

At that time, he didn't know what his father was doing when he returned to his hometown.

About a week later, the father returned home and told him that the young grandmother was gone.

Nope.

What is missing?

Later, I found out that it was my grandmother who left.

The old man was 92 years old when he left, and he lived a long life, which was considered a joy and mourning.

People always have a strong curiosity about the unknown, even when it comes to death.

Grabbing the horse, Dad asked a lot about death.

Twenty years have passed, and I can't remember many words clearly, but I vaguely remember that I asked my father very seriously when I was leaving, whether I closed my eyes all at once or closed my eyes slowly.

Children probably did not have an accurate concept of death in their minds, and at that time, they did not know that death was like a lamp going out, and it was a truth that they should only close their eyes and turn off the refrigerator.

But the light in the refrigerator will still come on, and the light in the eyes is gone.

The father let out a long sigh and did not reply.

This is the first encounter between catching a horse and dying.

The second encounter was nearly a decade later.

After graduating from high school in 2011, classmates and friends went their separate ways, and in 2012, the first class reunion was missing.

Let's not talk about the name, in short, it's a classmate, and she also has an identity, which is the ex-girlfriend of several of our high school brothers.

After careful questioning, it turned out that after the division of arts and sciences, the classmate did not go to school again, and died of illness not long after.

Brain cancer.

At the age of eighteen or nineteen, he knew what death was, but his classmates who had not intersected too much died, and he didn't seem to have more understanding except for the sighs on the surface.

So this second encounter was hurriedly rubbed shoulders.

The third encounter was at the end of last year.

This time it was a special family member of the Ma family - Lele.

Lele is a little turtle that my mother started raising in 98 years, and has been in my family for more than 20 years.

At that time, raising turtles was not very popular in China, and my mother also raised them casually in the roadside flower, bird and fish market.

Who would have thought that this casual raising would be more than 20 years.

From the northeast to Qilu, Lele has been by our side.

Once Lele was sick, it seemed to be pneumonia, in order to treat him, he caught Ma Evil and made up the turtle classification, only to know that Lele was a Mississippi red-eared turtle, which is commonly known as the Brazilian turtle.

Not an immortal species.

If it is not an immortal species, it is destined to have a parting.

One day at the end of '22, I was coding words in my study when suddenly my phone vibrate.

Open is a WeChat message.

Mom sent it.

"Let's take another look, Lele is gone."

It's hard for me to describe how I felt, my scalp suddenly tingled and I got goosebumps on my back.

But people were always unable to express their feelings at that time, so I replied to my mother: "Here you are." ”

Going up to the floor where my parents were, my mother was squatting in the bathroom.

In front of her, there was Lele with his head bowed and motionless.

Lying quietly on the ground.

I walked over to comfort my mother.

I opened my mouth, but I didn't know where to start.

Mom raised her head, her eyes red.

"I didn't pay attention to the feeding just now, and then I went downstairs to eat, and when I came back..."

"It felt so sudden, I couldn't say goodbye properly, even if I just took a good look at him when I was feeding him and talked to him..."

My nose was a little sour and I patted my mom on the back.

Then, we dug a pit for Lele in front of the yard and buried it in our own garden.

My mother made a coffin for him out of a box and buried this special family member.

For the first time, I seemed to have a reverence for death.

It was a separation that could never be seen again.

The last encounter with death was a few days ago.

On May 15, the grandparents who caught the horse were unfortunately infected with the epidemic.

After the old couple found out that they were sick, they talked and laughed, and they didn't even take a taxi, so they went to the hospital for treatment.

But the attending physician found that the situation was not as rosy as they had thought.

White lung, heavy infection, low blood oxygen.

After several days of conservative treatment, his condition worsened and he was admitted to the ICU on the 22nd.

Catch the horse and catch the father in the ward to guard the grandparents.

Of course, the aunts and uncles who caught the horses were also there.

The junior is only me, the eldest son and eldest grandson.

After entering the ICU, the condition did not improve, and the condition of the second elder deteriorated every day.

This continued on the 25th.

In the evening, my grandfather inhaled 35% of the oxygen, and the blood oxygen index was already 90.

Grandma's blood oxygen can also go up to 90.

Catching the horse finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that the second elder was out of danger, bidding farewell to the second elder and returning home.

The sky is unpredictable.

People have good and bad luck.

Just when he thought everything was fine, in less than a week, his father called again and his grandmother was critically ill.

At that time, he never thought that his relatives would leave.

After all, my grandparents were pretty good when I left.

When I returned to my hometown, my grandmother had been plugged into a ventilator and had no spontaneous breathing at all, and the little old lady was lying on the bed with her eyes closed.

Blood oxygen hovers around 80.

I was shocked and hurried to inquire about the situation.

It turns out that the reason why grandma was able to have 90% blood oxygen last time was to inhale 80% of the concentration of oxygen...

Shocked, heartbroken, confused.

Even as a writer, it's hard for me to describe how I felt at that time.

That's when I had the worst premonition.

Grandma may be leaving.

With a ventilator, infusion anesthesia.

Blood oxygen in one night, from eighty to sixty and back to eighty.

The alarm of the vital signs meter called people panic.

I stayed up all night, and the next day I asked my grandmother's attending physician, who was also my uncle, how was her doing.

My uncle's answer to me was, dangerous.

Other than that, I won't say more.

But I felt a thump in my heart.

As time went on, the old lady did not get better, but the lung alteration became more and more serious.

I asked my uncle quietly.

The uncle sighed and bluntly said that the possibility of a miracle was getting smaller and smaller now.

In the next few days, at the most critical moment, even the old lady was dressed in longevity pants.

The old lady is tenacious.

It seems to be nostalgia for relatives, and it seems to be reluctant to give up the world.

struggled back from the line of death again and again.

But a miracle is a miracle because it is a miracle, and if it can happen all the time, it is no longer a miracle.

On the twelfth day of entering the ICU, my grandmother fell into a dying moment.

The three children took the old lady's hand and spoke.

I don't know if the old lady can hear it, but I have to say it.

I also bowed in the old lady's ear, grabbed the old lady's hand, and said this and that.

Perhaps, the old lady was unconscious or even completely absent, but she must have known that we were all there.

The old lady cried.

The old lady, who was in a deep coma, left tears in her eyes.

I grew up with my grandmother, and when I saw my grandmother's tears, my nose was sore, and I didn't know why the tears fell.

In the evening, my aunt and uncle have to go home from work tomorrow, and I am left with my fun dad in the ICU.

Grandpa of eighty held my hand and cried like a child.

"I won't be able to talk to the little old lady anymore."

That was the first time I saw my grandfather cry.

My grandfather was a high-ranking official before he retired, and he was majestic and tight, and after he retired, he often taught me to be square.

In my eyes, grandpa is probably the image of the old family owner.

I resisted my crying and clapped my grandfather's hand.

Tired of crying, grandpa inhaled oxygen and fell asleep.

My perennial happy happy dad is born dark, but I can see that the corners of my eyes are red.

The gray hair is a little more visible to the naked eye than yesterday.

One day.

Another day.

I know, there are no miracles.

Because of diabetes, my grandmother couldn't absorb a lot of drugs, and the edema was visible to the naked eye.

On the fifteenth day after entering the ICU, the grandmother, who was in a deep coma, began to nod her breathing.

I knew that time was running out for my grandmother.

Blood oxygen has been hovering around 60...

Whether or not they will survive today is unknown.

After staying up all night, I went to have breakfast, and just lay down, my dad called.

"The time has come when I need you."

When I heard this, I immediately jumped up, wondering if the vital signs had called the police again.

When I arrived at the place, there were already two or three nurses and nurses in the ICU.

And doctors.

And my funny daddy with a lot of gray hair.

The blood oxygen of the vital signs meter is still 60, and the other indicators are a bar.

I was stunned and didn't react yet.

"This blood oxygen is okay."

Daddy didn't speak, sighed.

My head was pounding.

Grandma is gone.

I had imagined the worst, but when I saw that my heart was beating in a straight line, I still couldn't believe it was true.

I just ate my mouthful.

When I come back, I will be separated forever.

The little old lady who worked hard and thrifty all her life passed away on June 6, 2023.

Grandma and Grandpa's wards were separated by only one wall.

The top priority is not to let the grandfather, who is still seriously ill, know.

Then I was in a daze, bought tribute fruits, and went to the funeral home...

Grandpa soon learned the news of Grandma's departure.

The two elders have supported each other for more than 50 years, and they seem to feel something in the dark.

After finishing everything and leaving my grandmother's body at the funeral home, I went back to the hospital room.

Grandpa sighed incessantly.

"This old lady is really ruthless, what the hell did she dump me."

The next day, the grandmother at the funeral home ushered in the final farewell to relatives and friends.

There are many people, including relatives, nurses, grandmothers, and leaders.

In the noise, the day was over.

On June 8, my grandmother's body was put into the life box from the funeral home, and it was the last time I saw my grandmother.

The mortuary's craftsmanship is very good, grandma has her eyes closed, and the corners of her mouth seem to rise slightly, as if she is asleep.

Three hours later, at the crematorium.

Grandma turned into a pile of white bone fragments.

Unlike in the movie, the burned ashes are not gray slag, but miserable white bones.

Even the patella and femur can be distinguished.

The skull was held in the box in my hand until it entered the urn.

When I looked at the skull, my heart changed from sad to wooden, and I thought more than once, this is my grandmother?

Two hours later, Grandma entered the ashes storage and waited for Grandpa to be discharged from the hospital and taken to the ancestral grave.

It was only at this time that the horse had a reverence for death.

Not in reverence for death per se, but in reverence for its sense of ritual.

Death is a ritual.

It represents the ritual of physical death and the slow loss of anchorage with the world.

When my father is gone, my brothers are gone, and the next generation, it will be difficult for anyone to remember her.

So he lost the anchor of the world and really died.

The horse seems to have caught something, and it seems to have caught nothing.

Whether it is to share the life experience with the officials, or to apologize, I wrote this article.

Catch someone.

2023/6/13。