清明的追憶 In Memory of Step-grandpa1

任舒羽

清明節到了，正是給已故的人掃墓上墳的日子。在我的親戚中，有兩位親人已故了：一位是我的爺爺，在我一歲多的時候就去世2了，另一位是我的后姥爺，他是前幾年去世的。媽媽很小的時候父母就離異了。姥姥便改嫁給他——我的后姥爺。

我雖然見過爺爺，但已經沒有印象了。而我的后姥爺卻給我留下了最溫暖的記憶。

他，從我記事起就和姥姥住在一起。我也稱呼他為姥爺，而媽媽和阿姨們總是叫他“大爺”，他總是微笑著答應著。他有一張黝黑的臉，慈祥又溫馨。他的微笑給我的印象最深3，無論何時何地，或者在做什么事，每當我叫他或跟他說話時，他總是微笑著，眼角的魚尾紋像手風琴似地拉開，顯出他的善良慈祥。

小時候經常到姥姥家玩。我總是先看到姥爺手中拿著扇子或臉盆或菜籃或提著水桶，等在門前空地上向我招手。他的微笑促使我歡快地跑過去，大聲叫著：“姥爺——姥姥——我來看你們了！”然后他常說的一句話是：“走！進屋去！看看姥姥給你們做什么好吃的了。”多么純樸的話語！雖然我們毫無血緣關系，他對兒女們的關懷、體貼使我們彼此不感到陌生與拘束。

在姥姥家有時感到無聊或沒人陪我玩時，我就跑去看姥爺在做什么。他通常午后睡一小會兒起床后就在院子里干活兒。所謂干活兒，無非就是清理一些東西或者修理什么的。而我就會挽起裙子蹲在一旁看。我喜歡這樣，一蹲就是一中午或一下午。到現在我也很慶幸當時的做法，我看著眼前這個和藹老人不緊不慢、堅定沉穩的每一個動作。也許一中午或一下午的時間并不長，只是用來消磨時間，但我將這無意的動作場景變為了永恒的記憶：一位老人，在清理自行車，從車把擦起，到車梁，到車座，到腳踏板，甚至洗抹布，都如此認真、仔細，如此嫻熟。這種場景，多少年來總是那么清晰、那么溫馨。

我有時會剩飯，在姥姥家我所有的剩飯都是姥爺吃的。現在我感到很內疚和羞愧。

我的后姥爺，與我毫無血緣關系。我從不知道他的身世。但他給過我親人般的溫暖。他是我的親人，我的另一個姥爺。

希望他在那邊能知道：他在我心中依然健在。 ? ? □

People pay tribute to the deceased on the Tomb-Sweeping Day， or the Qingming Festival. Two of my family members have passed away. My dads father， my grandpa， who was gone when I was more than one year old. My moms stepfather left us a few years ago. Moms parents divorced when she was a little girl， and her mother married the man who then became her stepfather and my step-grandpa.

Although I met my grandpa， my dads father， he doesnt ring a bell for me. My step-grandpa， my moms stepfather， indeed left me with the warmest memories.

My step-grandpa had been together with grandma since I could remember things. My mom and two aunts called him “uncle” while I just called him “grandpa.” He always responded us with a smile. He had a swarthy face， kind and warm. His smiling always struck me the most. Whatever he was busy with， whenever and wherever we met， he always responded me with his smile when I came to him. The crows feet of his eyes spread like a fully-stretched accordion， exuding his kindness.

As a little girl， grandmas house was always my playground. My “grandpa” was always the first to welcome me. He stood in front of the house， waving to me， with a fan or? a washbasin in his hand， sometimes a vegetable basket or a water bucket. His smile invited me to run towards him， shouting with excitement， “Grandpa， grandma， were coming to join you.” The typical reply I heard from him was “Come on in， and see what a delicious meal grandma has prepared for you.” How earnest his reply was！ Although there wasnt a blood tie between us， his concern and love made me feel no sense of estrangement or uneasiness during my staying with him， not even for a moment.

At grandmas， when I was bored or had nobody to play with， I came to him. He usually had a nap after lunch and then did some chores in the yard. The chores were nothing special but cleaning or repairing. But I just loved to squat there regardless of my rolled-up skirt， watching him bustling out. I enjoyed watching him that way for the whole noon， even the whole afternoon. Up to now I still felicitate myself on watching him keeping himself doing this or that in a calm， easy and steady way. A noon or a whole afternoon was just a short span of time idled away， but I have printed those everyday scenes in my memory for ever： an old man was cleaning a bike， carefully and skillfully， from the handle bars to the crossbar， the seat， and the pedals and even washing the rags with equal patience. Those scenes are still fresh and warm in my mind even after so many years.

At my grandmas， whenever I had leftovers， he was the one who ate them. Now I feel regretful and ashamed for letting him do that.

My step-grandpa and I are not related by blood， and I do not have a slightest knowledge of his life story， but he treated me like his real granddaughter. For me， he belongs to my family just like my biological grandpa.

Although he is in Heaven now， I wish he could know that he still lives in my heart.? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ■