天堂里的姑姥姥（3）

我父母那个时候一直是两地分居。爸爸在河北省建筑公司上班，在河北境内到处打游击。我的记忆里，妈妈带着两个弟弟曾经去邢台和邯郸探亲，而爸爸则是一年一次的回家来看望我们。基本每次回来姑姥姥都要生病。我记得爸爸一边做饭一边生气的嘟囔，好像还吵过架。自然姑姥姥把爸爸骂个狗血喷头，说爸爸是一个忘恩负义的女婿。而我也认为爸爸不孝。现在想起来确实很同情我的爸爸。

终于爸爸决定把家安在河北省会石家庄，把我们四个人的户口从天津转到石家庄。天津是直辖市，往外省转户口很容易，转回来就难了。

这个决定是爸爸做的，没有和姑姥姥商量。原因很简单，在这个渔村父母是外姓人，没有自己的房子，而在石家庄已经分到了两居室的楼房。

面对这样的局面，姑姥姥又哭又闹的也没有达到目的，恳请把我留下，而我和父母并不亲近，也愿意留下来陪姑姥姥。

妈妈离开时，我只有11岁，当时不理解父母，长大后会觉得父母做这样的决定真是迫不得已。为了报恩，她们不能把事情做绝。

从此我和父母的联系就是每月一封信，10元钱汇款还有20斤全国粮票。

75年暑假我和姑姥姥第一次去石家庄，我都不知道怎样上楼。我们家住三楼，只有两间房和一个烧刨木花的炉灶间。其实是非常简陋的楼房，可那时对我来说却非常新鲜。现在都想不起来怎么住的。好像我和爸妈一间屋，我自己有一张小床。

姑姥姥很兴奋，最爱赶集，买便宜肉。楼下经常有小贩带病猪肉来卖。我妈那时已经在副食店上班，家里的蔬菜充足。姑姥姥可以尽情的吃带馅儿的食物。

我们在石家庄住了一个假期，在我的心里感觉自己应该在省城生活。但是从没有想过要留在父母身边。在我15岁的时候自己只身一人去过石家庄住过一个假期。再有就是地震以后爸爸来过一次。一直到79年7月我回石家庄备战高考。

76年夏天唐山大地震，我们住的村庄夷为平地。地震发生后，爸爸从石家庄走了三天才来到我住的渔村，帮我们搭建了防震棚。

从废墟爬出来的时候，姑姥姥抱着我大哭说：如果我被砸死她没法向我父母交代，她也不活了。那时候她一定想到了我并不是她的孩子，我应该待在父母身边。

可是不久她就开始让我给爸爸写信，把我的户口迁回来。她不断的带我去找公社派出所民警，让我帮办事民警看小孩，努力了一年，没有任何进展。她总让我去找民警，记得那个民警姓崔，是个退伍军人，老婆没工作，说话有口音。他对我说：“傻丫头，你应该和爸爸妈妈在一起呀，办什么户口？我不会给你办的，你姑姥姥太自私了。你父母也不会同意的。” 这些话我没有告诉姑姥姥，内心开始动摇，开始向往城市生活。

不久，爸爸就正式写信告诉姑姥姥，不能耽误我的前程，要我回到户口所在地去考大学，因为我在学校的学习成绩永远都是第一名。没有任何理由阻止我去考试。

姑姥姥开始为自己去养老院做准备，她把房子卖给住对屋的人，他已经觊觎这间房子很久了，他家两个儿子三个女儿，住的紧巴巴的，早就强占了我们右边厢房的宅基地，修建了临时住处，他和老婆小儿子住在那里，地震时房子坍塌，是我把他们三个人刨出来的。他老婆被砸成截瘫，小儿子和我同龄，当时被卡住脖子。他们一直说我是救命恩人，但在物质匮乏的年代，尽管是近邻，相处的并不愉快，姑姥姥总为被侵犯的利益而吵架。

那个年代去养老院是一件丢人的事情，没有后代，绝户是被人耻笑的，没人送终是被诅咒了的人生。姑姥姥那么的想把我抓在身边就是为了老有所依，她常说我就是块石头也被捂化了。是的，从两岁我就依偎在她身边，和她睡在一个被窝里，她是那个年代少见的胖老太太。她的乳房出奇的大，是我的最爱，直到懂事了被人笑话才不去当众去摸。

我离开之前，她就搬到了养老院。干妈帮我找了一辆去山西拉煤的顺风车把我和大姨送到石家庄。记得那是一个风雨交加的傍晚，我抱着姑姥姥大哭一场就出发啦。

大学期间放寒暑假我都要去看她，不回父母家。82年暑假，她被诊断出肺癌，人瘦的皮包骨头，我照顾她一个暑假。在83年初我准备期末考试的时候，她离开了人世，我没有见她最后一面。我的干妹妹代表我和大姨以及唐姓的侄子料理了后事。骨灰埋在一个坟地，那时也不懂什么墓地。大家都把骨灰埋那里。若干年后，那里成了养殖虾的水汪子。

姑姥姥抽烟喝酒都是老手，烟抽了50多年，我特别会用烟叶给她做卷烟，也会把酒壶放在汤锅里给她温酒，还会包饺子，她喜爱的事情我都会做。应该说姑姥姥是培养人的一把好手。

姑姥姥已经离开人世整整40年了，之所以记得她的出生年份，是她一直念叨的73，84 是阎王叫人的年纪。还有古时候60岁被活埋的故事也是从她那里听来的。她很会讲古经，应该说她是我的启蒙老师，在村里我是极个别的爱上学爱读书的孩子。也许只有那样才脱离现实。有时我会为了因为看书着迷被她呵斥，为了把买衣服的钱买复习资料而挨骂，但是我不记得被打过。我是唯一的不挨打的孩子，姑姥姥除了爱她自己多一点真的很爱我。

天堂里的姑姥姥你好吧！

My parents were living apart at that time. My father worked for a construction company in Hebei province, and he traveled around the province for work. In my memory, my mother once took my two younger brothers to visit him in Xingtai and Handan, while my father only came home once a year to visit us. Almost every time he came back, my great aunt would fall ill. I remember my father grumbling and getting angry while cooking, and they even had arguments. Naturally, my great aunt scolded my father harshly and called him an ungrateful son-in-law. I also thought my father was unfilial. Looking back now, I feel sorry for my father.

Finally, my father decided to settle our family in Shijiazhuang, the capital city of Hebei province, and transfer our household registration from Tianjin to Shijiazhuang. Tianjin is a directly governed municipality, so it’s easy to transfer household registration to another province, but it’s difficult to transfer back.

My father made the decision without consulting my great aunt. The reason was simple: in this fishing village, my parents were not locals and did not have their own house, while they had already been assigned a two-bedroom apartment in Shijiazhuang.

Faced with this situation, my aunt’s tears and tantrums did not achieve the desired result. She begged my parents to leave me behind, but I was not close to my parents and was willing to stay and accompany her.

When my mother left, I was only 11 years old and didn’t understand my parents. When I grew up, I realized that my parents had no choice but to make such a decision. They had to repay their debts and couldn’t cut ties completely.

From then on, my contact with my parents was only through a letter and a remittance of 10 yuan and 10 kilograms of national food coupons every month.

During the summer vacation of 1975, I went to Shijiazhuang for the first time with my great aunt. I didn’t even know how to find stairs. Our home was on the third floor and had only two rooms and a stove room. It was actually a very simple building, but it was very novel to me at the time. I can’t remember how we lived now. I think I shared a room with my parents, and I had my own small bed.

My great aunt was very excited and loved to go to the market to buy cheap meat. There were often vendors selling sick pork downstairs. My mother was already working in a food store, so we had plenty of vegetables at home. My great aunt could eat stuffed food to her heart’s content.

We stayed in Shijiazhuang for a summer vacation, and in my heart, I felt like I should be living in the provincial capital. But I never thought about staying with my parents. When I was 15 years old, I went to Shijiazhuang alone for a summer vacation. The only other time was when my father came after the earthquake. It wasn’t until July 1979 that I returned to Shijiazhuang to prepare for the college entrance exam.

In the summer of 1976, the Tangshan earthquake destroyed the village we lived in. After the earthquake, my father traveled for three days from Shijiazhuang to the fishing village where I lived, and helped us build a quake-proof shed.

When we crawled out of the ruins, my great aunt hugged me and cried, saying that if I was crushed to death, she couldn’t explain to my parents, and she wouldn’t live anymore. At that time, she must have thought that I was not her child and that I should stay with my parents.

But soon she started asking me to write letters to my father and move my household registration back. She kept taking me to the public security bureau to find the police officer, asking me to help the police officer’s wife taking care of their child, and trying for a year, but there was no progress. She always pushed me to talk to the police officer. I remember that the police officer’s surname was Cui, he was a veteran, his wife was unemployed, and he spoke with an accent. He said to me, “Silly girl, you should be with your parents. What’s the point of moving your household registration? I won’t do it for you. Your great aunt is too selfish. Your parents won’t agree either.” I didn’t tell my great aunt these words, and my heart began to waver, and I began to yearn for city life.

Soon, my father formally wrote to my great aunt, saying that he couldn’t delay my future and asking me to return to my place of household registration to take the college entrance exam, because I was always the number one in school. There was no reason to stop me from taking the exam.

My great aunt began to prepare to go to a nursing home by herself. She sold the house to the people living next door, who had long coveted the house. They had two sons and three daughters, and they lived tightly. They had already occupied the temporary residence on the right side of our house and built a temporary residence there. During the earthquake, I dug them out. His wife was smashed into a paraplegic, his younger son was my age, and he was stuck in the neck at the time. They always said that I was their lifesaver, but in the era of material scarcity, although we were neighbors, we didn’t get along well, and my great aunt always quarreled over infringed interests.

In those days, going to a nursing home was a shameful thing, and being childless and having no descendants was a life that was ridiculed and cursed. My great aunt wanted to keep me by her side for her old age, and she often said that even a stone would be melted by her. Yes, I had been with her since I was two years old, snuggling up to her and sleeping in the same bed. She was a rare plump old lady of that era. Her breasts were surprisingly large, and they were my favorite, but I stopped touching them in public when I grew up and was laughed at.

Before I left, she had moved to a nursing home. My godmother helped me find a free ride to Shanxi to haul coal, and my aunt and I were sent to Shijiazhuang. I remember it was a stormy evening, and I hugged and cried with my great aunt before we set off.

During my college breaks, I would visit her instead of going home to my parents. In the summer of 1982, she was diagnosed with lung cancer and had become skin and bones. I took care of her that summer. In early 1983, when I was preparing for my final exams, she passed away, and I didn’t get to see her for the last time. My god-sister, my aunt, and a nephew with the surname Tang took care of the funeral on my behalf. Her ashes were buried in a cemetery, but we didn’t know anything about tombstones at the time. Everyone just buried their ashes there. Many years later, it became a pond for breeding shrimp.

My great aunt was an experienced smoker and drinker. She had been smoking for over 50 years, and I was particularly good at rolling cigarettes for her using tobacco leaves. I would also put the alcohol bottle in a pot of hot water to warm it up for her, and I could make dumplings, which she loved. She was good at teaching people, and I should say she was a good teacher in cultivating people.

It’s been 40 years since my great aunt passed away, but I still remember her birth year because she used to say that 1973 was her year and 1984 was the year the king of hell called people. I also learned the story of people being buried alive at the age of 60 in ancient times from her. She was very good at reciting ancient classics, and I should say she was my enlightenment teacher. In the village, I was one of the few children who loved learning and reading. Perhaps that was the only way to escape reality. Sometimes, I was scolded by her for being too engrossed in reading, or for using my clothes money to buy review materials, but I don’t remember being beaten. I was the only child who wasn’t beaten, and my great aunt really loved me beside herself.

Hello, great aunt in heaven!