This article is purely fictional, please do not sit in the opposite seat. It aims to convey themes of love, family and responsibility, as well as resilience and courage in the face of difficulties. I hope that readers can enjoy the story while also feeling the positive energy and warmth in it.
"Are you crazy? Sixty-nine years old still want to live in a hotel with your mother for retirement? The hotel is for tourists, not for orphans and widows! ”
I looked at the manager blankly, my ears ringing. The old mother standing on the side was curled up, her eyes a little helpless. She's over 90, she has bad legs and feet, and recently she has started to lose recognition of people, and sometimes she can't even call me. I knew she was afraid, not because she was sick, but because she was afraid that she would leave me that day.
"It's okay, Mom." I choked in my throat and patted her hand. She answered softly, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "Mom, it's okay, don't worry."
In fact, everyone understands that the days are numbered.
Since I was a child, my father and I have depended on each other, and my dad left me alone when I was six years old. People say that filial piety is to raise before death and bury after death, and in my life, I live for my mother. But who would have thought that in these last few months, we didn't even have a place to live.
"Let's go!" The manager threw the room card into my hand, "You ran out of this house today, don't come tomorrow." ”
I took a deep breath, but my mind went blank. Where will you go in two days? Will my mother understand that the son she has guarded all her life doesn't even have a place to live in her old age?
"Mom, let's go."
I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Yoko, you're... Where did it go? ”
"I'm here, Mom." I hurried close and grabbed her shoulder.
Mom's eyes were a little cloudy, and her eyes wandered, as if she had been looking for something, and it seemed that she hadn't seen anything. Her eyes, once bright, are now like a dry well. Her hands trembled a little, and she patted my arm gently, "Don't go, don't leave Mom." ”
"I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving, Mom." I hurriedly reassured.
In retrospect, she said this almost every day, but that day was particularly distressing.
My name is Li Yang, I am 69 years old, unmarried and childless. My life is not complicated, it is to be by my mother's side, take care of her, and accompany her through day after day. When I was a child, I didn't think it was a matter of course. But it wasn't until she was old and sick, and life slowly became difficult, that I realized that in my life, there really seemed to be no one else except my mother.
"Yoko, what day is it?" She asked suddenly.
"Today, Mom, it's Friday."
"You talk nonsense!" She clapped her hands, her eyes widened, "Today is your father's death day, I remember it clearly." ”
I was stunned for a moment, and shook my head with a wry smile: "Mom, Dad has been gone for almost sixty years, do you remember?" ”
"Why don't you remember? When he left, you were only six years old, and I took you alone......" At this point, my mother choked up, and tears suddenly flashed in her eyes. Her hand waved in the air a few times, as if grasping something, "Why did you say he just left, Yoko?" Why did you leave us alone? ”
I helped her sit down, and my heart ached.
"Yoko, am I causing you trouble?" Mom suddenly whispered.
I was stunned, how could it be? She has always been my concern and the driving force for me to live. But at this critical moment, she felt that she was a burden.
"Mom, don't say stupid things. In this life, don't we just rely on each other. ”
My mom and I have been staying in this hotel for almost two months, and there is always a smell of medicine in the room, and the TV is on but no one is watching. Every morning I would take my mom to breakfast and push her downstairs for a walk.
"Yoko, how long can we stay here?" She often asked.
"Stay a few more days and see."
Every time the manager of the hotel saw us, he frowned and his eyes were full of impatience. "Mr. Li, you know that this is a tourist hotel, right? Not a nursing home. ”
"I know." I tried to squeeze out a smile, "We're only going to stay for a few days, and we'll leave when we find a place." ”
He was clearly not convinced, "You've been living for two months, and we really can't continue to receive them if this continues." ”
I nodded helplessly, "I understand, give me a little more time, okay?" ”
He didn't say anything more and turned to leave. I looked down at my mother, who was looking out the window at the sun, with a blank smile on her face. She didn't know it yet, and we were going to have to move out soon.
A few days later, our key card was literally stopped.
"Yoko, why haven't we gone out today?" My mother looked at me suspiciously, as if she was a little puzzled by today's itinerary.
"Mom, let's wait a while, let's live in another place today." I tried to make my voice sound lighter, but I was already anxious.
I tried making a few phone calls and asking a few nursing homes, but I was turned away without exception. Either the room was full, or I had to make an appointment in advance, and even some places directly heard that we were staying in a hotel, and my mother flatly rejected me. My head was buzzing as if everything was stuck in front of me. What if it goes on like this? What about mom?
"Yoko, I want to go home." Mom said softly suddenly, with a hint of begging in her voice.
"Mom, we don't have anywhere to go back......" I muttered.
"Why is there no place? Where is home? She pointed out the window, and I looked over the window, and it was my distant hometown, the old house that had been demolished. She didn't seem to understand that the years had turned that place into ruins.
"Mom, my home is long gone. We need to find a new place now. "I held back the bitterness in my heart, not daring to let her know the predicament we faced.
Just as I was thinking about it, I suddenly received a text message: "Mr. Li, the nursing home you ordered has a room, and you can move in tomorrow." I couldn't believe my eyes, and as if I had grasped the last straw, I hurriedly replied for confirmation.
The next day, I took my mom to that nursing home. The room was clean and tidy, the nurses received us warmly, and there was a rare relaxation on my mother's face. "Yoko, it's nice to be here." She lay down on the bed and said contentedly.
I stood on the edge of the bed and watched her close her eyes, but my heart was full of melancholy. Little did she know that the place was far from what I had imagined. The conditions of the nursing home are actually quite simple, although the environment is clean, but the staff is insufficient, and the service is relatively rough. But I had no choice, there was no other place willing to take us in.
As the days passed, my mother's situation was good and bad. Sometimes she could still pronounce my name clearly, and sometimes she was like a lost child, muttering to herself all day long. Her condition was irreversible, and the doctors made it clear that they were prepared for the worst.
One winter afternoon, I sat in the yard with my mom basking in the sun. Her eyes were closed, and there was a long-lost smile on her face.
"Yoko, it's not easy for us to live in this life." She spoke suddenly.
"yes, Mom, but we survived, didn't we?" I squeezed out a smile, but my heart was very sour.
"Yoko, I know it's not easy for you. You have never started a family in your life for me. If there is an afterlife, Mom will definitely not drag you down. ”
"Don't talk about it, Mom." I couldn't bear to listen to it anymore, tears rolling in my eyes.
She sighed softly and closed her eyes. At that moment, I suddenly felt an inexplicable panic - I was afraid that she would leave, that I would never hear that familiar call from her mouth again.
"Mom, do you remember the house when we were kids?" I changed the subject, my voice trembling a little.
"Remember, why don't you remember. When you were a child, you always liked to run in the yard, and I cooked for you there, and when your dad didn't leave, we were happy. Her voice faded down, as if she were immersed in a memory.
"yes, it was nice back then." I agreed, but my heart was bitter.
"Yoko, what are you going to do in the future?" She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at me.
I was stunned by the question, not knowing how to answer. I've been around her for almost all my life, and when she's gone, how can I continue? Where to go? With whom? These are questions that I have never dared to think about.
One day not long after, my mother suddenly became seriously ill and was admitted to the hospital. The doctor told me that her body was not going to last long, and asked me to be mentally prepared. I stood in front of the hospital bed, looking at her increasingly thin face, and my heart felt like a boulder had been crushed.
"Yoko, are you still there?" She spoke weakly, barely audible.
"I'm here, Mom, I've been there." I held her hand, my palms drenched in sweat.
Her lips moved, trying to say something, but she didn't say anything more. At that moment, I knew she might never be able to talk to me again. Tears blurred my vision, and I held her hand tightly until her hand grew cold and the breath of life disappeared in that moment.
My mother's departure completely shattered the pillars of my life. She is my only relative, the only care, and the only existence that gives me a sense of belonging. Her departure made me suddenly realize that in my life, there seemed to be nothing else except the identity of "son". I used to think that it was my whole responsibility and meaning to take care of her, but when she left, I realized that what I had left for myself was an endless loneliness.
I began to reflect on whether I relied too much on this family relationship and neglected my own life. The loss of my mother made me suddenly realize that everyone's life is independent, and no matter how intimate the relationship, there will be an end to it. Life is a journey alone, no matter how reluctant we are, we have to face the world alone in the end.
"The tree wants to be quiet but the wind does not stop, and the child wants to raise but does not wait." It's a colloquial I've heard since I was a kid, but it wasn't until the moment I lost it that I really understood its weight. My mother is gone, and I have lost her, but her love will always be in my heart and guide me into the future.
Now, I stand at a fork in the road in my life and ask myself, "What am I going to do next?" "My mother taught me how to love and care all my life, but her departure also reminded me how to learn to face the loneliness and anxiety of the future on my own.
"Live well" is my mother's last wish......