Separation is a common occurrence in every family. When I was young, I vaguely remembered the death of my grandfather. In my mind, when I was a child, he often took a long-distance bus to deliver cakes to our house for his birthday when he was a child. The vast land of Xinjiang is even more desolate in winter. The first time I recognized aging after he left us, was from my grandmother. She lived with her in high school and we barely spoke. She went to bed early in the evening with our bedroom door facing the door. When I was studying late at night, I heard the old man's breathing, almost whimpering, as if the strings of the erhu could be broken at any time. Sometimes she spoke in her sleep, with her hometown accent. Sometimes she cried in her dreams, and that cry was full of an indescribable sadness.
When "Sister Peach" was just released, I saw the poster in the cinema, with a warm and elegant light pink back, and Andy Lau bent down and stood beside her. In this film, Liu is very restrained in showing the emotions that his character deserves. There is no great joy or sorrow, but nostalgia and love are already in place. Many fans said that the "star face" gave them a sense of drama. What I want to say is that every star did their due diligence and acted with sincerity in this movie. The director of the film, Xu Anhua, used her usual technique to describe the last period of Sister Tao's life in a soothing but not slow manner. I didn't expect this movie to be so appealing, because it was supposed to be boring. In fact, there is no procrastination and scrapping of the plot. On the contrary, it can be slower and more fulfilling.
After watching "Sister Peach", the first thought that entered my mind turned out to be: I will never let my parents go to a nursing home. When I came home from the summer vacation of one year in college, my mother and I took a walk in the evening and found that a nursing home was opened in a remote and sparsely populated place like my home. Unable to resist curiosity, we walked into this nursing home. Objectively speaking, the house is spacious, clean and tidy, the facilities are quite sound, and the price is not expensive. At that time, my mother said casually: I will live in a nursing home when I am old, and I will not cause you any trouble. Looking back on how naive and unfilial I was at the time, I didn't immediately object. Thinking about it now, at that time, my mother must have expected me to say: When you are old, I will definitely take care of you by your side, and I will definitely not send you to a nursing home.
I have never really experienced the taste of aging. This taste can only be experienced by personal experience when I am old. I never thought that my parents, relatives, and friends would grow old and leave me. Life and death are such big things that they are irreversible and irresistible. "Rejuvenation" is just a movie, and Tang monk meat is only found in mythology. "Sister Tao" certainly has the emotions it wants to express. As a servant who has lived in the master's house for 60 years, she has no marriage, no children, and was not abandoned when she was old or sick. The story of return, such a warm ending is naturally what everyone hopes, and those indifferent children and hypocritical people in the movie are not uncommon in reality. However, the thing that strikes me most directly is still the scary and real thing about aging.
After watching the movie I called my mom, apologized to her, promised her that I would never throw her away, never put her and my dad in a world without me, and never use any excuse to say no They want to see my desire. She just smiled softly on the other end of the phone: My child, you are not worried about the responsibilities you will take in the future, but you are afraid of aging. You are still so young, and you still have dreams to pursue. The only thing you don't want to face is what will happen in the future, old age.
I dare not think that one day wrinkles will climb up my face, I dare not think that one day I will have to rely on support to walk, I dare not think that one day my eyes will not be able to see the smile of my lover, I dare not think that one day I will not be able to hear people. The note... let me live to 40 and die. I did think so once, and even now, I am a cowardly, afraid of old age.
When kowtowing to the old man every New Year, he said: You must live a hundred years. Most of the responses you get are: Well, I want to keep watching you happy and healthy! Is this a weapon against aging: love for loved ones and the world.
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