In life, "tears flow down". Loving her children and grandchildren, Mrs. Hien saved up every kilo of rice, potato, dozen of eggs... and walked from home to the province for her grandchildren.
- I said do you hear?
Ha stomped her feet on the floor, loudly shouting at her mother-in-law. Mrs. Hien lay motionless on the single-post bed in the corner of the dimly lit room like a lifeless corpse. Her body was small and compact in an old blanket stained with stains that had long dried. Her head was sticking out of the blanket, her silver-white hair cut short in rough places. Her pair of opaque white pupils like longan pulp lay deep in her eye sockets, staring blankly in the direction of the noise, a natural reflex of her ears. Her unconscious, emotionless gaze at her daughter-in-law's words made Ha even more furious and sarcastic: "This girl is not a servant of your house, she eats a lot and then pushes it out, no one can serve her. She's about to die and still drinks so much...!".
While screaming, Ha used a stick to break the blanket that fell to the floor at the end of the bed. The stench coming from the body of her mother-in-law who had been sick for a long time and the smell of urine on her face made Ha shut up, quickly covering her mouth with both hands and running to the porch to vomit. Tears and snot streamed down her face. She vented her anger by kicking the door with a bang, then ran upstairs.
Every day, whenever Mrs. Hien’s daughter-in-law came home from work, the neighbors heard her yelling and scolding her mother-in-law. Mrs. Hien was over seventy years old, sick and bedridden in the house across the street for nearly a year. The so-called house across the street was actually just a kitchen with an old corrugated iron roof, divided into two, each room about ten square meters, the last legacy of her son Vinh and his wife from the subsidy period. They were living in the spacious villa next door. This kitchen was reserved for the old mother who was dying to enjoy the last days of her life.
Neighbor Mrs. Han was worried: "Strange, Mrs. Hien's house has been so quiet these past few days. Since this morning, I've seen Vinh and his wife running around. Maybe the old lady is really sick." She ran to inform her old friends around the neighborhood and they all came running over. Through the iron gate, everyone saw Mrs. Hien's daughter-in-law gesticulating to her husband: "Your old lady won't die, if you drag this out every day, you'll only make her suffer. I can't take it anymore because of all the hardship and dirt that's been dumped on me."
Hearing the call at the gate, Ha quickly changed her expression, ran to open the gate, and said cheerfully:
- Hello everyone, come visit my mother!
Mrs. Han asked:
- Is the old lady over there tired?
- Yes, my mom is just a little tired!
- Can she eat or drink anything?
- Yesterday, my family cooked chicken for my grandmother to eat, and also cooked a pot of porridge, she just finished eating it! Hey, Huong, please come in and have some water while I go downstairs to give mom the last glass of orange juice! Ha winked at her husband and then hurriedly ran away.
Mrs. Han signaled for everyone to follow her around the porch of the villa and down to the side house. She knew full well the lies and deception of Mrs. Hien's son and his wife.
Indeed, Mrs. Hien was dying, lying motionless like a dry tree trunk, her cheekbones were shriveled and high, her face was pale, her forehead was covered with sweat. She breathed intermittently in short breaths. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking. Looking at Mrs. Hien, no one could hold back their tears of pity. The old friends gathered around, some stroking her hands, some massaging her feet. There was a sigh: "Her feet are very cold, she must be just waiting for the right time!"
Someone was sitting with Mrs. Hien, Vinh and his wife pressed each other to go upstairs, to the living room, Ha pulled the mask off her mouth, shook her head and said to her husband: "It's so scary, I can't stand it. My parents are sick, I can't even feed anyone a spoonful of porridge. Even when they passed away, I didn't dare to go near them. And now I have to sleep on shit and piss, serving your mother. My fate is so miserable!"
Mrs. Hien passed away that very night. Huong and her sisters, who were studying in Hanoi, received the news of their grandmother's death and hurriedly returned home. Seeing that so many of their relatives were absent, they cried and asked why their parents didn't tell their relatives in the countryside to come and see their grandmother one last time. Ha shouted at her children: "Why did you call so many of them here? There's no place to eat or stay. Where would you have the energy to serve them? There's no shortage of people here. If our agency came, it would fill up the whole street."
... Ha wore a white muslin shirt, her head covered with a cloth veil, standing next to her mother-in-law's coffin. Every time a group visited her, Ha cried out: Oh mother! Why did you leave your children and grandchildren? You worked hard all your life for your children and grandchildren, but we have not been able to repay you. Why don't you stay in this big house, mother!
The coffin lid slammed shut, taking with it all the secrets and pains of Mrs. Hien's life. The funeral trumpet sounded mournful and mournful.
*
More than thirty years ago, Ms. Hien became a widow. She silently worked hard to raise her children. Tears of missing her husband and her children soaked her pillow many times. She silently endured the misfortunes and storms and crises of life. She had to overcome all the ordinary desires and desires of a young woman in her prime to worship her husband and raise her children. On cold winter nights, with the scorching monsoon winds, she knew that outside there were still pleading, expectant eyes, staring at her through the crack in the shutters. Those eyes urged her to stand up and receive them. Her face was burning hot as if on fire, her whole body trembled... She suddenly heard from deep within her heart, the bell of chastity ringing gently, soothingly. Her dreamy eyes slowly closed. She turned over, hugged the blanket tightly to her chest, sobbing until her nerves were exhausted and she fell asleep without knowing when.
Her happiness now is Vinh, he is a living treasure, a hope and a solid support for her in her old age. She is frugal and patient in raising her son to be as educated as others.
Until one day, Vinh brought his girlfriend home to meet his mother… After getting married, Vinh and his wife returned to work at the agency, were assigned a communal house and soon had their first daughter. The subsidy period was difficult and there were many shortages. In life, “tears flowed down”. Loving her children and grandchildren, Mrs. Hien saved and saved every kilo of rice, potato, dozen of eggs, bunch of vegetables, and fish she walked from home to the province for her grandchild.
One evening, Vinh and his wife told her: “You can’t leave your children and grandchildren anyway. You should sell your house and land in the countryside and come live with us. A house with only mother and child, living in two places, both you and your children will suffer. We only worry about you when the weather changes!”
Mrs. Hien thought a lot but it was all for her children and grandchildren. She sold her entire property for more than ten million dong and gave it to her children. With the money, Vinh and his wife were able to buy land in the city and build a spacious two-story house. From then on, Mrs. Hien was content with her responsibilities as a mother and grandmother, helping her children and grandchildren.
But life was not as simple and smooth as she had always dreamed. Times changed. Her son and daughter-in-law were promoted, had power, positions, and status in the agency and in society. All the old ways in the family suddenly changed rapidly. More and more people came in to ask for help and discuss work. Mrs. Hien did not understand what position her son held that every day people came to ask for help. And suddenly, a spacious and luxurious villa replaced the two-story house. Old furniture in the house was discarded. In its place were expensive, stylishly displayed items. Then Mrs. Hien herself turned into an old maid without realizing it. The way her son and daughter-in-law behaved and spoke also gradually changed. They sounded condescending, arrogant, and curtly criticized her...
During the long sleepless nights, she lay awake missing her husband... missing her life and the short happy memories of the past, then sighed and muttered to herself: "Back then, raising children was difficult and tiring, but they were peaceful and free. Now, at this old age, I have to depend on my children, endure their management and cold treatment. What can I do if I am "powerless"?
When her two grandchildren were young, they clung to her every day. Now they are grown up and studying in Hanoi. She is left alone, lonely. Every day, she works hard and diligently with the family. Vinh and his wife's house is closed all year round, she longs to go out and have fun with her old friends, to go to the temple to burn incense to calm her mind but cannot. When her son and his wife receive guests, have a feast at home, she is not allowed to sit and eat with the guests but has to sit quietly in the room downstairs with the meal her daughter-in-law brings down. Countless times her bowl of rice is mixed with tears of resentment. She lives quietly like a shadow. Her strength is weakened and exhausted by old age. Until one afternoon, while cleaning the house, she collapsed. Vinh came home from work, saw his mother lying unconscious on the floor, and quickly called the doctor for emergency treatment. Mrs. Hien had a stroke. The stroke and brain softening forced her to stay in bed ever since, in a state of mental confusion and unconsciousness. She was unable to do any daily activities except eating like an automatic machine.
For a whole year, in the remaining moments of her life-and-death struggle, she could no longer know what was happening around her. People living next door to her often witnessed her continuing to experience all kinds of bitterness from her son and daughter-in-law. The things she was used to enduring were scolding, insults, hunger, and filth until her last breath…
Perhaps before she passed away, with her mother's compassionate heart, she could forgive all her child's sins. But her spirit still wondered one thing: Where did her child's sins come from?
DO TUAN TON