Hometown, Demolition, Remembrance

Original link: https://diff.im/blog/?p=1457

On September 13, my younger brother sent a video to the family group, saying that his hometown in the countryside had been demolished. The demolition of our hometown, which we have been talking about for more than ten years, has suddenly become a reality. Demolition has become a topic discussed by families many times. Many times, we expect to be demolished. Demolition, if there is no accident, means that a large sum of money can be obtained in a short period of time. Or you can improve the living environment, or make your money more comfortable. However, when I saw the home that had lived in it for more than 30 years in the video, the doors and windows were knocked off, the roof was demolished, and the ground was scattered with glass and tiles, my heart was still strongly touched. My home was really demolished. Did it fall? My heart is more sad and heavier than I imagined. The old house has two parts, old and new. The old house was built around 1970 (presumably) and was once used in the village to receive educated youths who went to the countryside. This house is also called “the educated youth spot” by the villagers. There are seven or eight rooms, red bricks and black tiles, wooden doors and windows, and some rooms are still on the soil floor (rather than the cement floor). In 1989, my dad bought this house for about 8,000 yuan, when I was 6 years old. The new house was built around 1993, according to the popular style of two-story building, three-row main house door, and white-tiled exterior wall. The new house structure is very special, completely symmetrical left and right. On the left and right are the lobby, bedroom, toilet, and stairwell. Standing outside the building, anyone with a discerning eye can see that this house was built by my father for his two sons to start a family in the future. According to Dad’s original words, if the two brothers have a good relationship, the houses on both sides are interconnected. If there is a gap between the brothers, then add a wall in the middle and divide them into two families. In our country, especially in the generation of parents, there are not many harmonious relations between brothers. In 1997, on the south side of the house, on the side of my brother’s half house, a dining room and kitchen were built. So far, the house in my hometown has basically been finalized, and I have lived in it until now. Nearly 30 years ago, Dad’s simple plan to build a house for his two sons could not match the changes in their respective life trajectories. After my younger brother got married, he lived in downtown Changsha. I have been living in different cities since graduating from university and getting married. This home has finally become a harbor for our few return visits and short stays every year. This harbor carries countless emotions and memories. When I was a child, the leeches stick on the feet to suck blood when planting rice seedlings in the spring, harvest rice with my parents in summer and autumn under the scorching sun, go to the neighbors or uncle’s fish ponds to steal fish while my parents take a nap in summer, lie down on the bamboo bed and look up at the stars and fall asleep at night, The blooming peach blossoms and sweet peaches in front of and behind the house, countless times of fishing by my own pond, the taste of my mother’s home-made Hunan dishes that have not changed for many years, the tears my mother wipes away every time I go out, and the trivial matters between my neighbors. The grievances and the warmth of caring for each other… Among these memories, the most direct, clear and vivid are the days at home during the New Year’s Eve. In the wood-fired kitchen with dark walls, the family sat together around the brazier. In the brazier, the firewood that Dad had prepared since the fall was burning. On the firewood, all kinds of bacon that dripped oil from time to time were smoked and roasted. No matter it is wind, rain, or snow outside the house, the home is always warm. Today, geographically home, no longer exists. For me and my small family, it has long been used to move from one city to another, from one residence to another. The physical space is only the external form of the home. What is more substantial is that the family is always together no matter how they move. However, for parents, it takes some time to accept and digest this reality when the residence they have lived in for a lifetime is suddenly demolished. Because of Christianity, I completely believe that everyone is a temporary visitor in this world, we will eventually leave this world (to heaven or hell), and we cannot really have any tangible or intangible things in this world. Recalling the bits and pieces of life in my hometown, the decades of life are really just a moment, which makes me sigh more and more how short life is. This life is so short, limited, incomplete, and sinful, compared to the eternal life with Jesus, it is incomparably better. I pray for the eternal, holy and good Lord who created us and saved us to lead my beloved parents, brother and his family to know him and to have eternal life.

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