Countryside

My mother-in-law, the grandmother of my two sons, always wondered, how strange is the city, always crowded and the lights are like distant stars. "In my hometown, it's pitch black at around 9pm, every house turns off the lights to go to sleep, sometimes all you can hear is the sound of frogs croaking from the fields", she said from the window of her 7th floor apartment looking out into the distance.

The small rice field in front of the house - a place that holds memories of a life associated with the countryside

Because, the familiar sky for her is the field in front of the house with different crops each season. It is the old house with cement tile roof that has been green with moss for a long time. The kitchen is always red with smoke. Although life has changed now, with gas stoves, electric stoves and more conveniences, life in the countryside is attached to the fields, raising livestock and rarely has a break. The rare moments of leisure are sitting and chatting with the neighbors right on the edge of the field or attending cultural and sports activities at the cultural house on weekend evenings.

But, everything changed 180 ^degrees when her daughter got married and had children in the city. Loving her child, she packed her bags to take care of her grandchild, bringing with her a lot of things, from a chicken raised in the garden, a few dozen eggs saved, a few old pumpkins, and a bunch of green tea leaves and betel leaves grown at home to bathe her grandchild. All the love was carefully wrapped and meticulously prepared weeks in advance. She didn't have to wait until the plane took off to know that in the next few months, her life and activities would be very different. But anyway, it was all for her child, for her grandchild.

First of all, she often complained that her hands and feet were redundant because… she had nothing to do. The whole family knew the catchphrase, every day she just had to do 3 meals, cook and eat, then do the laundry. The house had air conditioning, sometimes even a little sweat was a luxury. Then she often sat and compared, what would she be doing at this time in the countryside, how busy she was. When calling home, she anxiously asked all sorts of things. Has the cow given birth yet? Has the grass been cut and fed every day? Is the squash trellis in front of the house okay after several heavy rains?… Well, there were enough worries. Because at home, all of those things fell to her. She knew that everything would be done eventually, but she couldn’t do it herself, so she felt uneasy.

There were times when, sitting on the balcony picking vegetables, she felt absent-minded. For decades she had been attached to the garden, knowing every tree root, remembering every blade of grass and even the corners where the old hen lay eggs…, how could she not remember! That sky was her entire youth since she became a daughter-in-law in the days when her husband’s family was still struggling, the couple had to ask for each truckload of broken bricks, mix mortar themselves, the husband built, the wife helped to have a roof to protect the house from the sun and rain. The old roof has changed through many seasons of sun and rain, becoming more solid. The yard is now paved with clean, beautiful floors, running from the gate to the house. But, there are things that are deep in the subconscious, like breath and a part of the flesh and blood. Going far away, how can one not remember, not be attached.

This morning, it was raining lightly, the weather was cool like autumn. She packed her bags to return to her familiar sky. She was also sad because she could not stay longer with her children and grandchildren. But I knew that I could not selfishly keep her any longer because the sky, the yard, the corner of the garden and all the worries and daily hustle and bustle that were waiting for her belonged to her.

MINH KHOI

Source: https://www.sggp.org.vn/khoang-troi-que-post801603.html