Favorite: Keep an appointment

Favorite: Keep an appointment More than seventy years ago, the parents were married through the words of a matchmaker and the orders of their parents; it was not until the wedding night that the bride's headscarf was lifted, and she met the groom...

More than seventy years ago, the parents were married through the words of a matchmaker and the orders of their parents; it was not until the night of the bridal chamber that the bride's headscarf was lifted up, and she met the groom. Therefore, my father has never had any experience in dating with the opposite sex in his life. After my mother died of illness twenty-seven years ago, every morning in the wind and snow, my father would walk to a quiet and beautiful cemetery near the city to visit his late father’s grave and light a cigarette on a pile of grass. Until later, when I was unable to behave properly, during those more than 4,000 days, I had a persistent attachment to my father’s loneliness in his later years, and I could not understand the feeling of nostalgia for him. Early on, I received a letter from my second brother describing it, which was hard to believe but also very touching. Later, when I arrived in Germany and brought flowers to visit the grave, I saw that the soil in front of the stone monument was full of cigarette butts. When I asked Yan's father, he said calmly that his mother's last words to him when she was dying were not to spend money to buy those ghost papers. The underworld in Germany is not accessible. It would be easier to visit her than to light a cigarette when she was alive. Therefore, every time my father went for a walk, he would inevitably end up at the cemetery, where he would smoke a cigarette and chat with his wife. This persisted for more than ten years. In winter, the snow was thick and the roads were slippery. In addition, due to the weakness of the legs in the end stage of diabetes, I fell down many times before my second brother stopped me. His legs were weak and there was nothing he could do. From now on, the old father could only stay alone in his small room; as the years went by, time seemed to stand still, and there was no longer any joy or sorrow that could ripple in his heart. Many years ago, after I attended the second Microfiction Seminar in Bangkok, I parted ways with my wife, Wan Bing, at the airport. She went to Singapore, and I went to Europe alone. I stayed with my second brother for seven weeks, spending time with my old father, spending time in the morning and dusk, and fulfilling my son's responsibilities. It was early winter, and on a morning without falling snowflakes, I took a walk to admire the winter scenery of the small town. Following my father's path in the past, I walked through the busy city to the cemetery without realizing it. In the freezing cold temperature, many people and ghosts were sleeping, and the cemetery was silent. Find square stone tablets and clean up dead leaves, branches, weeds and cigarette butts for the cemetery. After returning home, my old father found out that I had visited my late mother empty-handed. The next day, he said goodbye and asked me to bring incense and pay my respects. He had quit smoking, otherwise I might have to burn cigarettes on his behalf at the grave. That day, the father and son were chatting. He suddenly wanted to check the clothes and ordered me to take out the suits, ties, silk hats, and leather shoes stored in the suitcase in the cabinet one by one for him to look at. He pointed out the date and price of the purchase like a treasure, so he could still buy it while walking and never used it. I originally planned to return to my hometown in southern Fujian to die in old age, but it was difficult to do so because of my illness, so these things were changed into "shrouds", which I said I would wear when I went to see my wife for an "appointment", and I had already told my second daughter-in-law. Thinking of showing it to me, he said calmly, feeling calm, as if he was talking about the clothes he had prepared for a banquet. I have never gone to an appointment in my life, but I am looking forward to the first and last appointment so solemnly and carefully. I can't infer what my father feels deep in his heart? Less than half a year after leaving Germany, the bad news came. I rushed to the Azalea City in Northern Germany, and went to the funeral parlor that afternoon. My father was lying peacefully in the coffin. Sure enough, he was wearing the new clothes he had shown before his death, and his silk hat was beside him. I stretched out my hands to hold each other, and the palms were cold to the touch. I couldn't help but burst into tears. My father was smiling, and he happily went to see his wife who had been gone for twelve years. We buried them together and fulfilled our dream of keeping the appointment. It has been fifteen years since my late father "went to an appointment". Every time I go to the living room and see the photo of Xian Yan's death, it makes me very sad to think about it!

In the early autumn of 2012, I was in Wuxiangzhai.