My Mother\Author: Ruo Shui\One night before Mother's Day, I once again understood why, more than thirty years ago that afternoon, in the small courtyard of our old home, my mother suddenly burst into tears.\At that time, I was just an innocent child, startled by the heart-wrenching sound of my mother crying. I didn't know what could make her so sad and sorrowful, and I even didn't dare to go to her side to ask what had happened.\Then, at a loss, I suddenly thought of my grandmother. Yes, I should quickly call grandmother over to either ask or comfort mother! Thinking of this, I dashed like a frantic wild rabbit to grandmother's house…\When grandmother, leaning on her cane and walking unsteadily, arrived at our home, my mother's cries had already stopped, but tears still occasionally fell on her cheeks, and her eyes looked helplessly into the distance, as if deep in thought. “What's wrong, Lan (mother's name)?” Grandma urgently asked as soon as she reached the courtyard gate, “Is there something you can't get over?” Seeing grandmother arrive, mother quickly wiped the tears from her face and said lightly, “It's nothing, mom. I just thought of our father.” I stood beside my mother, and seeing her regain her calmness, I felt a weight lifted from my heart.\Although I could not fully understand the reason for my mother's sorrow, in my childish ignorance, I knew she had suddenly thought of her father, my late grandfather.\Perhaps at that moment, mother could no longer hold back the floodgate of her emotion. Even in front of a child, she allowed the tears of longing to flow freely like a little child, without concern for anything else.\In fact, my mother is a strong and profound person. At 17, soon after graduating from junior high, she participated in the socialist education movement organized by the state from 1962 to 1966, and she showed excellent organizational ability. As soon as the education movement ended, she became the deputy secretary of the Party branch and primary school principal in my grandfather's village (then called a “brigade”), and then she worked in rural grassroots positions for over twenty years.\Mother has a magnanimous heart.\Mother's surname is Yang, and her full name is Yang Yunlan. But the villagers affectionately call her “Da Lan” (Big Lan), not only because she is sincere with people and generous in dealings, but also because she has always harbored a simple yet profound “great love.”\Whenever someone encounters a complicated matter, big or small, as long as they come to her, she treats it like it were her own family's matter, and no matter how difficult it is, she will find a way to help resolve it.I can't clearly remember how many times in the middle of the night, whether it was villagers who suddenly fell seriously ill and were at a loss, couples who had conflicts and developed a “family quarrel,” or elderly people who were disliked by their children, my mother, upon hearing a knock on the door, would rush to the scene without hesitation and do her utmost to help and resolve the situation.
Therefore, whether in the streets and alleys or in the fields, whether among the elderly with white hair or children just beginning to understand the world, as long as they saw my mother, the name “Da Lan” would escape their lips. When I was young, I didn't understand— in my heart, my mother's name was sacred, so why did so many people casually call it out? As I grew up, I realized that my mother's name, in the hearts of the villagers, was no longer just a simple “name.” It represented a sincere trust, a source of dependable support in times of difficulty, and the kind of help, however small, that could be received in a time when material resources were relatively scarce.
My mother was simple and upright.
“Simple”—these two words best described my mother. In 1976, when our large family, led by grandfather and consisting of his four sons and their wives, split into four smaller families, due to financial hardship, apart from three newly built thatched and tile-roofed houses, the family only had a ceramic grain storage jar that was half rotten and a few basic living items. My mother did not complain at all; instead, she kept her worries to herself and optimistically planned the future life of our whole family.
Sometimes when urgent matters arose at home, and there wasn't even a cent to spare, my mother, even if she had to borrow from here and there, never allowed my brother and me to see her shed tears from life's difficulties. Except for two pieces of clothing she could take out when attending meetings, my mother didn't even have a proper belt, and even after our living conditions improved, she remained frugal, yet still clean, simple, and tidy.
As a rural grassroots cadre, my mother had many opportunities to choose a better life, but she never easily changed her principles of being a person. Colleagues who participated with her in social education campaigns arranged jobs through various channels and many became leaders. Among the village cadres of her time, some also went on to promising futures, yet my mother said that no matter what you do, as long as you are at peace with your conscience, you will have no regrets.
My mother was compassionate, filial, and merciful.
My maternal grandmother had only my mother as a daughter and loved her dearly from childhood. My mother, in turn, was extremely devoted and filial to her grandmother.When I was a child, my grandmother would occasionally stay at our house. As long as she wasn't going out to attend meetings or handle business, my mother would personally serve her every meal, never letting us do it for her. My grandmother had suffered three serious illnesses, each extremely severe, and every time she recovered from life-threatening conditions under the careful care of my mother and others. She passed away at the age of 93.\ Not only did my mother take care of her own elderly family members, but she was also kind and compassionate toward neighbors, villagers, and even strangers. It was in the summer of 1986 that my mother went to the county town for a meeting. While staying at a hotel, she happened to meet a teenage girl from another place. Seeing the girl's tear-streaked face, my mother couldn't help but feel concerned. After patiently talking and inquiring, my mother learned that the girl was from Heze, Shandong, and had had a conflict with her father, who was doing business in Guizhou, and had run away on her own. Upon realizing this, a maternal instinct rose within my mother, and she felt great compassion for the girl. Through an all-night conversation, my mother persuaded the girl to temporarily stay at our home and contacted her father far away in Guizhou through letters. More than a month later, the father and daughter finally reunited in our home, hugging and crying. Seeing them reconcile, my mother was moved to tears, but more than that, she felt a long-awaited sense of relief.\ In my heart, my mother was an ordinary person, but also a perfect person.\ However, today, it has already been 22 years since my mother left me and my family.\ That winter of 1992, my heart grew bleak and cold as my mother departed.\ The news of my mother's death struck like a thunderclap out of a clear sky. It happened when I had just completed my first year of military service and was attending a training program for key personnel in the army. The leadership of the unit didn't even let me see the telegram sent from home before putting me on a train back home.\ Just half a month earlier, I had received a handwritten letter from my mother. In the letter, she repeatedly urged me to train hard, grow, and to achieve something in the army through my own efforts. I couldn't believe it—was this my mother's final “admonition” before parting? Was this her one lingering concern for her son far away? To this day, every thought of it overwhelms me; seeing objects associated with her makes me think of her, bringing tears that soak my shirt…\ My mother passed away while leading the villagers in building a road for public work; she was 47 years old that year.My mother was a representative of the county and township people's congress. Her memorial service was solemn and grand, and wreaths sent from the county, township, village, and relatives filled the entire courtyard. Thousands of villagers from the surrounding area came to bid her a final farewell.\In that sorrowful winter, I inexplicably held back my tears, not knowing whether it was because I wanted to show the resilience of a soldier's mind, or to prevent my relatives and friends from becoming even more saddened by my grief, or perhaps because I was afraid that my mother would be troubled by my tears and not be able to peacefully move on. Even today, I still find it hard to let go.\But after that winter, I cried countless times in my sleep. On countless nights, my mother quietly came to my side, smiling at me. She would not have a chance to speak to me for long before she silently drifted away.\I realized that my mother could not let me go, but in my heart, I have likewise never let go of my mother. I think what my mother could not let go of was that her son would face the long road of life without a mother's love, warmth, and gentle care, whereas what I could not let go of was the nurturing grace of my mother, which I could never repay in this lifetime.\So many times when I awoke from dreams, my heart was tormented and struggled, yet through blurred tears, I could no longer trace my mother's departing figure; so many sleepless nights in the middle of the night, my heart silently cried out—Mother, you will forever be the pain in your son's heart!\Many years later, I have long been a husband and a father, with a harmonious family, well-behaved children, and a happy life. My mother still occasionally appears in my dreams, and each time I see the smile on her face, I no longer always fall into endless sorrow. Because seeing her son's happy life today, my mother must surely feel deeply gratified and satisfied.\It was on an ordinary night just before Mother's Day, as usual, my wife and I were chatting while watching TV. On the show, a mother with a terminal illness, not wanting to burden her family any further, chose to end her life by jumping. When her son arrived at the scene, he cried heart-wrenchingly, shouting: 'Mom, if you are gone, who will I repay for your upbringing? Indeed, the debt of nurturing is as heavy as a mountain!'In an instant, I thought of my mother again, and her kind face appeared in my mind. Tears unconsciously filled my eyes. Watching that touching scene on TV, I, like my mother did when she remembered my deceased grandfather, was overwhelmed with emotion and, in front of my wife, cried just as loudly...\It turns out that when facing the irreplaceable bond of family, people's emotions can rise and fall so easily. Back then, when my mother thought of my grandfather, she cried so freely and unrestrainedly. Today, when I think of my mother, tears still instantly fall, and my eyes become blurred...\Mother's Day has arrived, and I wish my mother happiness and peace in heaven!\May all mothers in the world be happy and healthy!\From your son Yonghui, on the eve of Mother's Day 2014
