Old house, hometown

People are old and entangled in diseases, and their bodies are like dead leaves. Those who have had more contact before, seeing me like this, suddenly lost half of their enthusiasm for communication. Even if they happen to see me occasionally, they feel very uncomfortable and helpless. There are many experienced people among them. Nod or even prevaricate. At present, this situation has gradually formed a fashionable fashion. For this reason, my social circle is getting smaller day by day, so that it is almost close to "zero". Sometimes I can't get a phone call for months, or even get a chance to say a word during the day. Alas, when people get old, in addition to physical troubles, they must also adapt to the psychological loneliness brought by the external environment.

However, the situation has changed recently, and I can receive calls from three or five old homes every day. One minute it's my nephew, the next minute it's my nephew, and sometimes even late at night, someone will call. The content is almost the same. That means telling me that the three-room old house with red tile and mud brick structure handed down from my ancestors is about to be razed to the ground. The mountain and many fields behind the old house should be leveled. There are many other people's houses in the village, and they can shovel. The developer and * * have signed a contract. Farmers whose houses were shoveled were organized and gathered together to build a new countryside. * * Responsible for dividing the homestead. The style and structure of the new house are built by each household according to the unified planning of the village. When building a house, you only need to make an oral report to * *, and the funds will be raised by each family. For those who are particularly difficult, it is determined by the democratic appraisal of the whole village, and the village tries to give a little subsidy.

They also told me that the village leaders said that my situation was special: although my hometown was in my village, I/kloc-went out to be a soldier at the age of 0/8 and returned to my hometown at the age of 50. At that time, although the hukou was once in the original village, the policy was finally implemented. I also found a job that I was not very satisfied with, and I also transferred my hukou together. It has been many years since the account was transferred out. If building a new countryside now requires the allocation of homestead, the area can be considered to be exactly the same as that of people with hukou in the village, but they can only enjoy the same treatment as other immigrant households, and it will cost about 70,000 to 80,000 yuan to buy homestead. In addition, it depends on whether the new homestead is enough for people with hukou in the village. If it's not enough, even if you give money, you can't do it. Besides, even if you buy a homestead, if you don't build a new rural-style house according to the unified planning and requirements within three years, the homestead will be transferred to people with village hukou.

On the phone, those nephews and nieces all spoke with nervous, flustered and uneasy accents. Although the ownership of the old house does not belong to them, out of respect for my uncles and uncles, and their commitment to take care of the old house, they have always cared for my old house like one of their own.

The so-called old house is the house where my family has lived for generations. My grandparents lived, my parents lived, and I lived with my sister. Except that I haven't decorated the old house too much, the elders have decorated and improved the old house.

When I was three years old, my grandmother died in the old house, because I was young at that time and didn't leave a clear memory for me. At the age of fourteen, I suffered from "natural disasters" for three years. My grandfather ate coarse bran bark for a long time, but it accumulated in his stomach and could not be excreted. He died alive. Before I die, I will help him dig those things out of the * * with my fingers every day. Even so, it failed to save grandpa's life. At the age of forty, my father died of a stroke in an old house alone. I rushed back to my old house from the army station thousands of miles away in the starry night, but I still couldn't catch a glimpse of my son before my father closed his eyes. I personally held my father's body, put it in a coffin, sprinkled flowers, green leaves and lime, and wished my father a pleasant journey in heaven. When I was 56, my mother died in my old house. I rushed back to my old house from my unit hundreds of miles away and stroked my mother's body. Although her whole body was cold and stiff, her eyes were still wide open, perhaps because she was sad that she couldn't look at her son before she died. I gently stroked my mother's eyes, and she closed them safely. Even though her old man's body is gone, her eyes are as spiritual as her soul. I knelt in front of my mother's coffin for three hours, meditating on her selfless care and great kindness.

The old house is going to be shoveled, along with the barrier behind it-a hill. Pine trees, bamboo trees and orange trees on the mountain, as well as the habitat of ancestors' bones-graves, competing flowers, grass coming and going every season, and my footprints. Old houses and paths in front of old camphor trees ... will also be shoveled away.

I still have many memories of the old house that was shoveled away, including the figure of my father's stooping, the scene of my mother sewing clothes to make shoes for me, and the "singing and laughing" sounds of cows, pigs, dogs, chickens and cats that I fed myself.

I spent my childhood in an old house, and a lot of my homework was done under kerosene lamps. In the old house, I helped my father make straw sandals and fetch water from the distant pond for the whole family to eat; Help my mother grind flour, collect firewood and do housework; I helped my sister finish the homework assigned by the school.

On the hill behind the old house, I played hide and seek, picked oranges, picked flowers and dug nests. Squinting, looking at the moonlight, counting the stars, dreaming of the future or distant scenery.

On the path in front of the old house, I left tens of thousands of footprints, which made it easy for me to walk back to the old house with my eyes closed.

Enjoy the cool under the old camphor tree, shelter from the rain, play cards with childhood friends, and share joys and sorrows.

There are also picture books I have seen and some exam review materials in the old house. I used to sleep in Chinese fir beds and bedding, as well as boxes full of various books; All kinds of clothes I have worn in spring, summer, autumn and winter; A group photo taken by several students when they graduated, and a collection of parting words; There is also the "Golden Gate of Heaven and Earth" brand that I worship on holidays ... Everything will be shoveled away with the old house and completely disappear from this world. Since then, their concrete forms have been destroyed and can only be stored in my mind in the form of images.

My yearning, nostalgia, reluctance, helplessness and sadness ... will last for a long time because of the disappearance of the old house.

How many times I miss the sun, how many times I dream at night, hoping to return to my old house and live a quiet life one day; I have also hinted to my children that after I die, I will scatter my ashes on my parents' graves in Houshan, my hometown, and add some fertilizer to the grass and trees there to make them grow greener.

I can't stand the disappearance of my old house. There are good mountains, good water, good trees, good grass, good flowers and good air. I am familiar with every path there, and the old camphor trees there provide shelter for me. Whenever I am depressed, squeezed and frustrated in a foreign land, the existence of the old house will always bring me an invisible support. Because I think: No matter how bad my fate is, there is at least an old house ready to accept me. It has been breathing with me for a long time. It will never abandon me and give me some comfort. Now, the old house is about to be shoveled away and will disappear from the earth forever, which undoubtedly gives me a great blow and greatly affects my mood.