The weather changes, the north starts to blow, most violently in the afternoon. During this season, driving on the road must also be slow and careful because sometimes the wind is so strong that it can knock both people and vehicles over. Then there is the dust.
The wick makes dust fly everywhere. If you ride without wearing glasses, dust will surely fly into your eyes, making you feel miserable. Once, I forgot my glasses in a hurry and had to squint while riding, afraid that dust would fly into my eyes. That was too dangerous, so from then on I always reminded myself to bring my glasses with me.
Every afternoon on the way home, the wind blew strongly, I clicked my tongue and thought to myself, "That was so fast, it's almost Tet." I don't know why the wind is so cold this season, as if it's carrying water on its back. I was standing outside the third row when the wind brushed my skin, very lightly, and it made my goose bumps stand up in self-defense. Mom said it's Tet, honey. The year is over again. I wandered around thinking, analyzing how much sadness, how much happiness, and what percentage was in Mom's light words and soft sigh. People say old people love Tet, but why do I see Mom secretly hiding her sadness every time Tet comes? Mom still smiles, but her smile is tinged with worry. Mom still hopes her children and grandchildren will come home to reunite, but why is there a bit of fear mixed in her anticipation? No matter how resilient a yellow leaf on a tree is, how can it avoid worrying about the day it falls to the ground?
I knew my mother's secret thoughts but did not dare to ask, afraid of stirring up more sadness in her heart. I pretended not to know anything, using tricks to entice her to buy this and that, to buy this and that to forget the sadness lurking in her heart, but she just brushed it all off: You're old, why eat so much, you're old, you don't go anywhere to wear clothes. She isolated herself in the sadness of old age, secretly, trying not to let her children and grandchildren know. She was afraid that her children would worry about her.
I wondered if the wick knew what was on Mom's mind, why did he keep blowing on it so carelessly? The wick did not answer me, every afternoon he continued to blow the banana grove behind the house to pieces. Whenever the banana tried to grow a new leaf, the wick would aggressively blow until it was torn to pieces. Mom sighed and said that if the wick was all torn, what would she use to wrap the cakes for Tet? She could not find anything to wrap them with. I laughed at Mom's far-sightedness: It's still a long way from Tet, why should I worry so early? If all the leaves are torn, I can go to the market to buy some. A few hundred thousand leaves can be used to wrap cakes, the important thing is whether anyone will eat them. Mom glared at her child sharply: Why won't anyone eat them? On Tet, we have to have a few cakes to worship our ancestors, then we can share two or three with our relatives to celebrate Tet. You guys are so busy thinking only of yourselves, you don't even know who your relatives are. Then Mom went on and on about how if she were no longer around, future generations would not know who was who and how to recognize their relatives. I could only sigh. Two generations had two different ways of thinking and seeing. I couldn't blame Mom, but it was hard to force myself to listen.
There has never been a season as unpleasant as the winter solstice season. The fog is thick. The winter solstice is getting more and more intense. The weather is unpredictable, the days are scorching hot and the nights are freezing cold. Everyone has runny noses, coughs, headaches, and sore throats. Mom also has insomnia because of joint pain. After 2am, Mom has already gotten up to boil water, cook rice, and sweep the house. Even though the economy is better than before, Mom still keeps the habit of cooking breakfast. When I tell Mom, there is no shortage of breakfast, why do you have to cook so much, Mom will glare at me and say that I am used to being so happy and wasteful, I have to be frugal and save so that if something happens, I can use it, otherwise I will have to run around and borrow it. When Mom says that, I can only give up and not explain. The nature of old people is just like the winter solstice, through many seasons, it still maintains its arrogant habit, blowing in, making a ruckus on the tin roof, going to the banana garden, then disappearing. The house faces west, and in the winter, it receives the brunt of the storms. Because my mother often closes the door and complains that when she opens it, dust flies into the house, making it very dirty. So the storm gets angry and stomps on the corrugated iron roof as if trying to blow it off. How could it blow the roof off? The people here know the storm's temperament, so they carefully cover the roof with two layers of corrugated iron.
This morning, I saw my mother taking out pots and pans to scrub the sand. She explained that she would do it whenever she had free time, because she would not be able to do it in time near Tet. If the house was dirty during Tet, it would bring bad luck for the whole year. I was surprised and asked her, "There are still three months left. Why are you so eager to celebrate Tet so early?" She glared at me again: "Damn you, three months is like three steps. By that time, don't you see the wick rising strongly?"
Oh, the wind is getting stronger this afternoon. Another Tet season…
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