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With a backpack on my back, I walked to my childhood home.
The heavy load of the backpack made me pant as I walked. I looked back, but
my childhood companion was nowhere to be seen. She used to hold my hand and
carry my load, but where is she now?
I walked alone through the mountains and forests, crossing deep bamboo
groves and giant rocks to get to the slope field (a place called Wanli).
Standing on the stone edge, I gazed at the place that was my childhood
playground. Laughter echoed in my ears as memories of playing in water, ice
skating, rock climbing, and building dirt forts flooded back.
The ground was covered with fallen leaves, the channels were dry, and the
fields were barren, having lost their former vitality. I followed the cow
footprints on the path, searching for traces of my childhood memories. As I
walked the path, the footprints were visible everywhere, but there were no
cows or people in sight. I walked over this once-familiar land again and
again, trying to awaken my childhood memories.
When I arrived at my childhood home, I didn't make a fuss because I had
already lost my childlike innocence. The barking of the dog still welcomed
my arrival. When I entered my grandmother's kitchen, it was empty and cold,
giving me a sense of desolation. Ever since my grandmother had been
bedridden, the warmth had disappeared.
Standing in front of her, looking at her haggard face, I was speechless, and
tears welled up in my eyes. I could no longer taste her delicious food,
converse with her by the fire, or walk alongside her. Who, who took away my
grandmother from me?
In the quiet night, I stood in the darkness, replaying in my mind the
memories of boasting with my grandfather under the stars and playing with my
brother under the moon. It was like a movie deeply imprinted on my memory.
I followed my sister to my uncle's house. When we passed the small river,
the trickling water reminded me of the fun times I had with my brother
fishing and swimming in it. I scooped up the cool water, feeling its
refreshing sensation.
When we arrived at my uncle's house, it looked the same from the outside,
but the interior furnishings had changed. The small house from my childhood
memories was gone. When I looked at my uncle, I realized that he had grown a
few more wrinkles, which made me feel a little sad.
Time had changed many things, but my uncle's love for me as his own child
had not diminished one bit. He still showered me with love and served me her
stir-fried pig ears. I was deeply moved, knowing that family love is
priceless.
We all have to hustle and bustle for our lives, and we often have to part
ways. As I bid farewell to my loved ones, I looked at them affectionately,
silently saying goodbye to them one last time.
Walking the same path, seeing the same people, saying the same words,
shedding the same tears, life cannot go back to its past. My childhood home
is like flowing water that will never return, disappearing without a trace. |
