Lyric prose about the sadness of spring

Spring is a beautiful season of colorful flowers. Everything wakes up and flowers bloom. Even the hearts of adults and children are filled with tenderness by the warm spring breeze.

However, for my uncle, the people in my uncle's family, and all his relatives and friends, this passionate and beautiful spring is a spring in which there is no love and righteousness, and there is a separation between yin and yang.

My uncle was buried on April 1st. The village, which had been bustling for several days, was finally silent. There seemed to be some peace in the silence, as if nothing had happened.

On the afternoon of March 28 this year, my uncle habitually went out for a walk alone after dinner. No one expected that he would never come back after leaving.

My uncle is my husband’s uncle. He was born in 1963 and is 55 years old this year. He has been selling saplings for many years and his business has always been good. Many people in our village have the habit of going out for a walk after dinner every day. That night, my uncle went out for a walk. When my son and I drove back to see our parents, it was not even eight o'clock, and I saw him walking out while talking on the phone.

Around nine o'clock, I was watching TV at home, and my husband, who always came home late, came back early. After entering the door and putting down the car keys, he said to me solemnly: "You know what? Something big happened in our village."

I was startled, a terrible thought came to my mind, and I blurted out: " Could it be that someone is dead?"

My husband said, "Yes, our uncle, the military camp."

I almost jumped up and exclaimed: "No, you are talking nonsense." , I just came back and saw him, how could it be?"

My husband said, "He was going uphill when he came back, and he fell down."

My husband said. Then he said: "I went to my uncle's house to help. It's terrible! My legs are still weak even now."

That night, I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep until my husband came back at nearly 12 o'clock. , not a little sleepy yet.

My husband said that my uncle fell down on the slope and was seen by the immigrants. They called the village cadres, who in turn informed our family members.

When the villagers and uncle's family arrived, they called 120. After 120 arrived, they provided treatment, but they were unable to save their lives. The uncle died of acute myocardial infarction.

The night my uncle left, I kept tossing and turning and couldn't sleep. I had no choice but to get dressed and get up. When I walked out of the house, I saw many cars parked outside the village. Seeing the brightly lit lights in my uncle's house and hearing the heart-wrenching cries, my heart ached and I couldn't bear to move forward. I returned in silence, but I couldn't sleep.

It was just an ordinary walk, just a usual return home. Who knew that this walk would kill my uncle? Who knew that my uncle would never return home this time? Not going.

In the past few days, my sister-in-law, brothers and my wife and I have been helping with cleaning and doing chores at my uncle's house.

On the evening of March 30th, there was a movie at my uncle’s house, and on the evening of the 31st, there was a suona performance. I never like liveliness, so I just went out to watch a movie for a while. I said I was going to a movie, but actually I wanted to see my uncle for the last time and also give him a ride.

On the screen, there are photos of the uncle himself, photos with his aunt, and photos with his family. After the uncle left, relatives paid their respects and went to the funeral parlor. Each pile of piles rushes past our eyes like smoke and clouds of the past.

In the photos of my uncle during his lifetime, he was full of smiles, full of energy and boundless passion. But now, he is alone, lying quietly in the one-foot-square urn. What is left to my family and relatives is regret and deep pain that can never be made up for or recovered in this life.

A person's life seems to be long, but after completing the road of life, due to the production and completion of the audio, the screening time is only ten minutes, which is really sad.

On April 1, amidst the mournful cries of family and relatives, after delivering the urn to my uncle out of the house, my aunt and uncle sat in the yard, each one crying heartbreakingly.

The aunt cried: "He has always been in good health. He just went out for a walk. Why has he never come back? He doesn't care about the life or death of our four mothers."

Aunt Crying: "My brother, why don't you care about your sister? In the past, my brother would take me out wherever I went. Whenever I made delicious food at home, I would call him and ask him to come and eat it. But from now on "When I call you brother again, who can answer me again?"

Every word, every word, my aunt and aunt made everyone around them cry until their eyes were red and tears were shed.

At this moment, I just want to say: To all my relatives and friends, please be well, love yourself well, and don’t leave regrets to yourself and the people you love the most!

This spring is really hurtful and sad.

The small village was quiet, and the uncle slept peacefully forever.

I hope there will be no more sorrow this spring.