The year my mother and father got married was 1967. My mother was 18 years old and my father was 21 years old.
Father and grandmother depend on each other. My grandfather became seriously ill when my father was 7 years old, and my grandmother and my young father passed away.
As my father grew older, it was finally time to say goodbye, and the uncle looked at the leaky dilapidated house of his grandmother's house and said that it was time to build a new house.
So my uncle took my father, drove the oxen, and pulled the stone mill to a rice field.
The uncle and father each took a sharp shovel and built large soil embryos in the rice field, and then moved the soil embryos out of the field one by one and exposed them to the sun. When the embryo is completely dried and becomes a sturdy adobe brick, the house can be repaired.
With the help of the uncle, a brand new adobe house was built on the site of the grandmother's house. The house was very small, and my father had to bow his head when he came out and went in. The roof was covered with thick new thatch, but there were no windows, and there were a few gaps in the place where the windows were left, separated by adobe bricks.
The new house was a large open house without partition walls, and the middle was divided into three rooms by a woven Shu pole.
My mother later said that when she went to my father's house for a blind date, she felt that the family had a declining sense of wealth.
In the middle of the hall, there is a rattan chair that is not usually found in families, and there is a black lacquered cabinet on one side of the rattan chair. One is a bedroom with a quilt on the bed. In another house, there was a black lacquered grain ring containing more than 100 catties of soybeans.
The young father wears a white shirt with a pen pinned to his pocket. He has a long figure, a dignified appearance, a short head of new reason, which makes him refreshed, and a white shirt and a pen set off his elegant bookish atmosphere.
My mother later said that my father looked like an educated youth in the countryside at that time.
And my grandmother, like all parents who love their children, is more interested in the circle of soybeans at my grandmother's house, and with soybeans, you can grind soybean noodles and drink soybean noodles.
In those poor and famine years, who wouldn't want to find a solid in-law for their daughter?
My grandmother fell in love with my father, but also because my father's family only had orphans and widows, and the family members were simple, and no father-in-law would not be angry, and no brothers would have no one to fight for the family property.
As it turned out, my grandmother was very wrong.
When it came to wedding day, everything went smoothly. But the mother found that the flower quilt on the bed was gone, and it was replaced by a broken quilt with patches and patches that could no longer distinguish the original color.
My mother asked my father, "Where is our quilt?" Father said that it was the quilt that the second brother watched, and it was temporarily placed here that day.
The elegant rattan chair in the hall was gone. According to my father, it was his cousin who sat down that day and sat down.
Although my mother was a little lost, it was the only way. Besides, everything is a foregone conclusion, what can she do? Life will go on as usual.
The days after marriage are inseparable from pots and pans, as the saying goes, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law are incompatible since ancient times. Grandma and Mother still can't get rid of this age-old problem.
My grandmother was straightforward and pungent and widowed for more than ten years, and she was already my father's unspeakable authority.
Like ordinary women of that era, she wore her hair in a flat bun, her old blue blouse was wide and long, and her fat black bloomers were tightly tied at the hem, making her three-inch golden lotus more and more small.
She was just 40 years old at the time, and years of hardship had turned her into a raunchy old woman. She was such a dark and fearful presence in the eyes of my young mother.
My mother was afraid of my grandmother, just like my father, and didn't dare to say half a "no" to my grandmother. But without her grandmother by her side, the young mother was still happy, and she did not know sorrow like a child.
I don't know when their conflict started, but gradually the situation was the same, and six years later, when I was 6 years old, my grandmother and we separated.