A Heartfelt Journey of Loss, Love, and Remembrance: A Tale of Friendship and Motherly Affection

  ”Okay, Mom, stop talking, I’m busy…” I hung up the phone in a hurry. I can no longer remember the day of the National Day. I just feel that this tormenting cold, accompanied by my mother’s nagging, has extended every minute of the day, which makes the head on my tired body even more painful. Drowsy. I chose the most comfortable position, lying on my side, and scrolled through Moments out of boredom.
   When I scrolled through my friend circle, I suddenly remembered that I haven’t contacted this buddy for almost half a year. “Are you there? What are you busy with, brother?” I asked first. He replied: “You are busy with work. How are you doing lately? Are your uncle and aunt doing well?” “It’s very good, but I have a lot of classes this semester.” Then I entered in the chat dialog box: “Uncle How is Auntie?” The memory fragments flashed by, and I hastily deleted these words. All in all, it has been eight or nine years since Fa Xiao’s mother passed away.
   This buddy and I were classmates in junior high school, and we were inseparable when we were in junior high. Due to the long distance, I was too lazy to go back to my home at noon. I often went to his house to rest and play with his little yellow dog. Because of the remaining shyness in my character, I refused to eat with them even if my aunt called me. At this time, my aunt would bring a full bowl of rice and fried beans and meat to me with a smile on her face.
  After I was admitted to high school, due to my busy schedule, my buddy also moved away, so I went to his house less frequently.
   It wasn’t until after the college entrance examination that I learned that my buddy’s mother was hospitalized with cancer. After I went to the hospital, I felt that my aunt was not as serious as I thought, and she was still talking and laughing as before.
   During the winter vacation after I was admitted to college, this buddy and I got together. When I saw him, his thin clothes, beard that had not been shaved for a long time, and a more obvious jawline made me feel a little strange. As we chatted, I asked: “How is auntie’s health?” My friend said: “Hey, my mother is gone, everything is over.” I was shocked, and I couldn’t imagine those long days and nights. Ye, how did this buddy of mine get here?
   Is it all over? I guess not. Three years later, I went to my buddy’s new home. He had learned how to cook and make dumplings by himself. A photo of him and his aunt was placed quietly on the bedside table. Perhaps recalling my aunt’s nagging voice, my buddy would also be there for me. Tears well up in your eyes where you can’t see them.
   Sylvia Clare, a doctor of psychology in the United Kingdom, said: All love in this world has the ultimate goal of gathering, and there is only one kind of love that has separation as the goal, and that is the love of parents for their children.
   When my thoughts reached this point, I dialed the phone back again: “Mom, I’m done.”

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