When breathing turns into air, perhaps only memories remain.

Sep 24, 2025#日常 #生活漫谈33

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A few days ago, I received a call from my dad early in the morning informing me that my grandmother had passed away. In a state of shock, I booked a train ticket to go home. Reflecting on the journey, it felt surreal since she had seemed well during our last video call. This was the third funeral I attended this year, and it was relatively simple, held after her burial due to local customs. My grandmother loved lively gatherings, but it was unclear if this event met her expectations. The funeral had its complications, typical for the area, but everything was managed quickly. After the meal, people dispersed, leaving only memories of my grandmother's home.

A few days ago, early in the morning, my dad called to say that my grandmother had passed away. In the half-awake state just after getting up, this sudden bad news left my mind blank for a moment. After that, I booked a train ticket to go home for that day.

To be honest, while reflecting on the train, it all felt somewhat unreal. Just not long ago, during a video call, she seemed to be in good health.

Time is always merciless, pushing people to move quickly.

This is the third funeral I have attended this year, and it is also a relatively simple one. Due to local circumstances, the banquet and other matters were held after my grandmother was buried. My grandmother liked lively gatherings; I wonder if this counts as lively for her.

There were also complicated situations at the funeral, especially locally. It was inevitable that there would be small incidents, but they were all handled quickly.

After the banquet ended, people dispersed. From then on, apart from the house where my grandmother lived, perhaps only memories remain.