她的一生艱難，認真，保守，但讓子女們胸懷大誌。 她不甘落後，不畏強暴，雖然見識不廣，但認真地活著。永遠的懷念，永遠的祈禱。
獻給母親的小說
《小燕子在唱...》作者：林海雪原§1§那是夏天。臨汾的夏天炎熱、幹燥，酷暑八月，熾熱的太陽烤在街道兩邊建築物的磚牆和混凝土上，也烤著那馬路上的瀝青上，黑色的焦油融化成像慢慢流動的熔岩。鞋和自行車輪胎壓上去，就像在雪地裏踏出的腳印一樣，焦油聞起來就像燒焦的輪胎。一整天的烤炙後，太陽落下了呂梁山的另一邊。到了晚上，精疲力竭的男女們詛咒[
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2019-8-8
母親去世兩年了。
這兩年經常在夢中見到她， 但從來在夢中沒有意識到她的離世，場景總是停留在她在世的時候， 大概在五十歲的時段。
生命如此的短暫，我覺得每天的忙忙碌碌中能在夢中相見也是一種奢侈。
生命如此的浮華，我覺得生命的意義就是在於在一生裏編織回憶。
在我生命的盡頭，我希望我的存在也顯示在其他人的記憶及夢中， 尤其是兒子的夢中， 希望他記憶的內容是幸福的內容。
存在乃是生命的意義。
珍視你現在的存在， 珍視你周圍的現實。
也不要忘了昔日的記憶。
September 2, 2019
憶母親
再夢先妣郊遊，兒時故地又一秋。昏昏欲睡恨驚醒，卻見嫦娥揮袖愁。知否，知否？明月初上枝頭。
A man's life came from a woman, and ends with another woman, or man. He loves both and cherishes them both. Yet, he is in the dark, most of the time as to why this is.
May the Almighty keep her soul in Heaven where there is no humanly pain and suffering. May my memories of her be a part of her legacy as a woman who suffered from a step mother, horrific and traumatic memories of war, and political turmoil, poor health and depression. May these words pass on to tell those who don't know her that life is short, brutal, and nasty. Cherish each other and just be nice.
And be sensible to our environment. Your individual needs, wealth, and desires are nothing but dust in the wind.
Thy will be done. Amen.
A woman who struggled all her life. Like a stubborn lioness, she fought a good fight!
May the Lord have mercy on you and give you a better time up there.
I shall talk to you in my dreams...
As my son will speak to me in his dreams after I am gone. Yes, son, I am listening because I know you will be talking， even though I know you are busy in your little world right now.
Just promise me, as I have promised my mother, that you will live a happy, meaningful life, and stay away from pain and stupidity.
We will all meet up there for BBQ one day.
May you have peace and freedom from pain up there. Will join you later.
With memories and regrets.
"Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
(Act V, Scene V, Line 26)
William Shakespeare
May your soul rest in peace Mother and watch over us down here figuring out how to avoid the virus.
Life all ends in eternity, yet, eternity is forever eventless and life is memory upon memory and without anyone remembering your existence, there is no life.
Given such a fate that all living organisms destined for, spring and youth are the most precious, yet not necessarily the most mentally reflective stages of organisms - such is the irony of life - best years are buried in the lack of understanding of self; last years are buried in too much understanding of self, yet a self not to be enjoyed as youths due to natural deterioration of the organism, if not doubled with diseases.
If human civilization is evolutionary, then all is right that exists. To defy fate is useless; yet to defy such a helpless fate is to live. To live a meaningful hour per day, a meaningful day per week, and a meaningful month per year. Meaningful in a sense that each organism is capable of.
When a butterfly flutters to grow and when an antelope springs across the African plain, or even when an earth worm wiggles through its dirt path, they are all living a meaningful life only designed to themselves. Such designs cannot be defied, just like a fish cannot defy its water by flying in the air.
So do your humanly things as humans, as bugs do their buggy things.
When death smiles at you - you can do nothing but smile back...
Hopefully, without too much pain.
The life of a mother...
You think you can forget and lead a busy material life. You think that you could go on and numb your senses with the busyness of work, cleaning, cooking, and sleeping. But you can't. You are a walking living memory of your past and your past is always there.
In remembrance we continue the saga of a mother, a family, a clan, a race, and a nation. In remembrance we celebrate the existence of a life, a being, against the eternal existence of darkness and death. Life is conceived at random, fostered through humanly love, highlighted by youthful play, nourished through innocence and experience, and carried on through remembrance of the loved and living.
May your soul rest in peace and comfort Mother. Drop us a rain and paint us a rainbow to say "hello" as we look up the sky and see your face. Thou shalt not be forgotten; not on earth and certainly not in Heaven.