I don't understand, I'm just as moved.
The building block cabins are layer by layer, and the beautiful memories are section by section.
When an old man stands alone in the face of memories, no matter what his expression is, it is sad.
That back figure is indescribable.
From the sweetness of two people who love each other building a house together, to the loneliness of building bricks alone to survive.
From the happiness of a candlelit dinner for two to the loneliness of toasting with an empty wine glass alone.
When the children and grandchildren left home by boat, how reluctant and proud were there in their farewell eyes?
Living with his wife on the hospital bed, there is happiness that no one can see through the desolation on the surface.
Who and who can walk through the sunset red hand in hand?
For 12 minutes, I kept thinking, if it were me, would this hut be piled up?
Is it better to live forever than to live alone?
It's too childish after all.
Memories are not necessarily pain, not necessarily sadness, but not necessarily despair.
Learn to be content.
Bad memories, it's gone.
Good memories should make us content.
Learn to smile and remember.
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