I remember the writer Vu Bang wrote about January like this: "Who can tell the mountains not to love the water, the butterflies not to love the flowers, the moon not to love the wind; who can forbid men from loving women; who can forbid mothers from loving their children; who can forbid young girls from missing their husbands, then only can people stop being infatuated with spring" . Yet why, every time I hear the swallows carrying the news of spring, my heart is filled with anxiety and fear.
When I realized that the joy from my lucky money envelopes was also exchanged for my mother's opening money; when I realized that when Tet came, my mother had to rush to brace herself in the bitter cold of the winter wind that was blowing in waves like continuous waves, I was no longer happy every time the golden sunlight touched the apricot branches in front of the gate.
At the end of the year, my mother had to work three times as much.
PHOTO: LE THANH HAI
Because in the last days of the year, my mother had to work as hard as my father because "You will only know when you are wise at the mandarin's office, and you will only know when you are rich when you are thirty in the New Year". She worked so hard to have enough fatty meat, pickled onions, cakes and jams in the house for three days of Tet. Only by working so hard can the altar have a full tray of five fruits and warm incense to welcome the grandparents home to celebrate Tet and welcome spring.
There were times when I blamed my mother for not having bought new clothes or shoes even though it was already 30. Sometimes I was even angry and upset and unintentionally said things that hurt my mother. My mother didn’t say anything, she just sighed and hurriedly got busy with the myriad of tasks that were coming to hold her back. I was so foolish to just keep quiet. Little did I know that all day long, when everyone had already quit their jobs and were excitedly shopping and decorating, my mother – and many other mothers – were still sweating hot and cold trying to earn more money to buy their children some new clothes.
At the end of the day, when everyone was waiting for the sound of firecrackers to light up the New Year's Eve, my mother was still quietly cleaning the house, carefully ironing my brand new clothes. At that time, I was lost in a dream. The next morning, I was surprised. The neatly ironed shirts and the smooth pleated pants made me jump for joy and many years later made me regret and feel tormented. I began to dislike Tet. If I didn't tear up the calendar and time stopped, I would rather let the calendars stay there, so that my mother wouldn't have to struggle with worries in the days before Tet.
The moment I understood my mother's hardship was also the moment I saw clearly the nature of the cycle of time.
PHOTO: LE THANH HAI
When I understood my mother's hardships, I also saw clearly the nature of the cycle of time. There is no cycle when every year my mother's face has more wrinkles of the years. Time passes by, the reeds bloom on my mother's hair, sowing in my heart a thousand times of melancholy and anxiety. Every spring, the flowers bloom, and age fades. My mother's age is like a swallow hovering over the gradually fading spring, gently but stirring my whole life. I am afraid that every spring that passes, my mother will become more and more frail and old, like an old tree that is losing its life when the small clusters of flowers still need protection and shelter.
Every spring, my mother still sends me lucky money, oh how happy! That happiness is not the happiness of a child being given brand new money. It is a happiness that has been nurtured for many years and grows bigger every day, like the apricot tree in the yard that is fertilized every year and blooms with hope after the cold. Last year I was able to welcome spring with my mother, this year I am able to welcome spring with my mother after the fear that her hair would fly away like clouds and wind, what greater joy could there be?
Every spring, flowers bloom, age fades...
PHOTO: LE THANH HAI
But then, every spring that passes, my heart is filled with anxiety. And then I feel moved every time I hear the lyrics: "Every spring that comes, my mother gets a year older/Every spring that comes, the day I'm away from my mother gets closer/Even though I know that, I still have to believe/I still have to believe that my mother is still young/Every spring that comes, my mother gets a new year older/Every new spring that I give my mother lucky money". I've come to terms with the author of this song.
"Different beds, same dreams", we have the same worries, the same feelings and the same actions. No one can resist the law of time. If one spring I am shocked and motherless, spring will be lonely and people's hearts will be lonely. I am always hesitant and worried about that loss. So every spring, I send my heart with the swallows to send a song to spring: "Spring, oh spring, if there is no joy/Please don't, don't come looking for it"...
Thanhnien.vn
Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nghi-ve-me-khi-mua-xuan-ve-185250128141516412.htm
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