Chapter 17 we have one mother

we have one mother ——Wu Jingmei's story one Our train started to enter Shenzhen from Hong Kong. In an instant, I was excited. I only felt sweat dripping on my forehead. My blood vessels were throbbing. From the depths of my bone marrow, I felt a deep pain.I think, Mom is right, I feel that only at this time, I completely become a Chinese. When I was fifteen, I had a big fight with my mother in order to insist on the Chinese blood flowing under my skin. At that time, I was a sophomore at Galileo Middle School in San Francisco, and all the students in the class admitted that I was Chinese.

Only my mother denied it: "It's useless!" My mother had studied in a famous nursing school in Shanghai. She said she was proficient in genetics, so whether I agreed or not, she insisted: "Only you were born in China, otherwise, you cannot feel and think that you are Chinese." "Someday you'll get it," my mom said, "and it's in your blood, waiting to boil." Such words make me angry and angry.But when my mother really showed typical Chinese behavior: such as haggling with the shopkeeper endlessly, and picking her teeth and pouting in front of everyone, the uncoordinated combination of lemon yellow and pale pink, etc.

But today, when the train pulls into the Chinese border, for thirty-six years, after my mother passed away, I sat on the train with a dream of returning home, and I realized that I had never really experienced being a Chinese people's mentality. Our first stop is Guangzhou.My seventy-two-year-old father, Wu Canning, will go to Guangzhou to visit her aunt. He hadn't seen her since he left his aunt when he was ten.I don't know if it was because I was eager to meet my aunt, or because my seventy-two-year-old father was fidgeting with excitement like a little boy after returning to China.He looked so innocent and happy that I felt like going up and patting his forehead and buttoning him up.We sat facing each other across a small coffee table with two cups of cold tea on the table.This is the first time, I saw my father tearful.Outside the window, you can see the neat yellow-green cultivated land that has been carefully cut into pieces, and the narrow ditches flow slowly like crystal sashes.On the village road, three figures in blue coats were sitting on a slowly walking bullock cart.

I don't know why, this October morning, the most common scene in the Chinese fields will bring tears to my eyes, and it seems to recall a distant memory. After three hours by train, we arrived in Guangzhou.Except for the city of Shanghai, which has not changed its spelling, almost all cities in China have changed their spelling.I think this in itself means that China has changed in every way.After meeting my father's aunt in Guangzhou, we will catch a flight to Shanghai, where I will meet my two half-sisters. They were twins born to my mother and her ex-husband.She had to abandon them on the way when she fled from Guilin to Chongqing during the war, which was during the Anti-Japanese War in 1944.Mom once told me about this incident, so my impression of them is still a pair of babies waiting to be fed.

I didn't know they were still alive until I got news from them this year. At this time, in my mind, the babies turned into a pair of five or six-year-old girls.They sat side by side at the table and took turns writing neat lines of Chinese characters with brushes: Dearest mother, we are all alive, take us away quickly! Of course, they would not have thought that their mother had passed away three months ago.Suddenly, a blood vessel burst and died.One minute before she died, she was still complaining to her father about the tenants upstairs, and immediately she clutched her head and moaned loudly, then fell to the ground and never got up again.

So my father opened the letter from Shanghai.It was a long letter, they called her mom, and they even kept a picture of her.In the letter, they described in detail the situation since they were separated from their mother in Guilin. The letter broke my father's heart--it never occurred to him that in that other strange and completely different world, someone would call his wife "Mama"--he gave the letter to Ma's old friend Aunt Linda looked and asked her to write a reply letter to the two Shanghai daughters, telling them the news of their mother's death in as gentle a tone as possible.

Aunt Linda brought the letter from Shanghai to the Joy Luck Club and discussed it with Aunt Yingying and Aunt Anmei.Because they know that for many years, my mother has been trying her best to find out the whereabouts of these two daughters.So they felt compelled to do something about it, to comfort the ghost of their old friend. Therefore, they wrote to my Shanghai sisters like this: "Dearest daughters, I miss you all the time, and I never give up a little effort, so that we can be reunited. Unfortunately, we have waited too much for each other. It's been a long time. Now, I will tell you in detail about my experience after being separated from you..." They signed my mother's name.

After they had arranged everything, they told me that I still have two older sisters in Shanghai. "But they thought it was their mother who came!" I muttered to myself.In my imagination, they are still a pair of bouncing eleven or twelve-year-old girls, who are eagerly waiting to reunite with their mother, but in fact, their mother has passed away. "But you have the heart to tell them in the letter that she can't come, she's dead?" Aunt Linda said, "She is both their mother and your mother. It's up to you to tell them the truth. You know, all these years, they've been dreaming of seeing her again!" I think she was right.

Yes, I don't know what it would be like if the mother went back to see them.I can't even imagine what will happen when I meet them!They would tiptoe anxiously at the airport and watch every black-haired person get off the plane, but I would recognize them right away. "Sister, sister!" I would greet them in broken Chinese. "Where's Mom?" They would smile and look around, "Where is she hiding?" I could only shake my head and tell them that Mom didn't hide. At this time, they would point to a little old Chinese lady next to me—she was almost submerged in a huge pile of luggage, stuffed with food, toys, gifts... "Oh, that's my mother!"

I'd say to them, "Sisters, I'm sorry, I'm here alone..." and they'd know the truth without me having to say much.They would cry and be in so much pain, and leave me alone at the airport and walk away, and I would have to board the plane back to San Francisco by myself. Whenever such visions arise--their disappointment and depression--I can't bear it.I begged Aunt Linda several times to write them another letter to tell the truth.At first she refused. "How can I tell them your mother is dead? I can't write that," Linda said stubbornly. "But it's cruel for me to lie to them like this, and they will hate me to death."

"Hate you? No way," she said. "You're their sister, their only family. How can you hate you?" "You don't understand at all," I said. "Don't understand what?" she asked. I muttered, "They'll think it's all my fault, I don't care about her death." Aunt Linda was moved by my words.She pondered for a while with a desolate expression, then sat down and spent an hour writing a long two-page letter. I felt that what I was most afraid of, she had done for me, so when she wrote this letter written in English When I handed it to me, I didn't even have the mood to read it again, so I just thanked her softly. two The twilight outside the window is thick, and low concrete buildings are crowded along the railway tracks: old factory buildings, and then the tracks are densely packed like spider webs, and the platform outside the window is crowded with people wearing gray denim western-style jackets , occasionally dotted with a few bright figures, most of them are children, they are dressed in pink, yellow, bright red or peach red clothes, in addition, it is the olive green on the soldiers.Finally the train arrived at Guangzhou Station. The train hadn't stopped yet, and people couldn't wait to get their luggage from the luggage racks.Suddenly, the heavy luggage on top of my head was dangling, I was really afraid of being smashed.Some of these suitcases are just a broken cardboard box tied several times with ropes, or plastic bags stuffed with wool, and some are filled with vegetables and dried mushrooms.Then in the midst of pushing and shoving, we moved with the flow of people without touching the ground, and were miraculously sent to one of the twelve lines of customs. This scene made me feel as if I was still on the No. 30 bus in San Francisco. .I immediately reminded myself: this is China. I took out my passport and the declaration form. The surname said "Wu" and the name column said "Jingjing". She was born in California, USA, in 1951.I was skeptical that customs officers would recognize me as the same person in my passport.In the photo, I'm wearing false eyelashes, eye and lipstick, and Frogger's blush on my cheeks.But now I have sweaty hair drooping on my forehead, and I don't have any makeup on.I didn't expect it to be this hot in October. People here would never accept me as Chinese even without makeup.I was five foot six, half a head taller than average, and my mother said it looked like my grandfather.He is of northern origin, possibly of Mongolian descent. "That's what your grandma told me, but I can't verify it now. They died long ago. When the Japanese invaded, a bomb fell on the roof. Grandparents, uncles, and aunts all became cannon fodder." "They probably left before the bombs dropped," I said. "No," my mother said, "our whole family did not escape this fire, except you and me." "But how do you know? Some of them may have escaped." "Impossible," Mom was almost angry, "When I go back to my Shanghai home, I won't even have a house, only a frame of bricks and wood..." In the small room of the customs, a female clerk looked at my documents, glanced at me, quickly stamped the documents, nodded to me solemnly, and let me pass.My father and I, walked into a hall full of people and luggage, and there was a commotion all around. "Excuse me!" I said to an American-looking traveler, "can you tell me where I can get a taxi?" He just grunted, and he sounded like he had a Swedish or Dutch accent. Suddenly, someone yelled behind us: "Little Goose, Little Goose!" I saw an old lady holding a pink plastic bag and yelling at us.My father stared at her for a long time, then suddenly jumped up like a little boy: "Aunt, aunt!" "Xiaoyan!" My great-aunt kindly called my father over and over again. They held each other's hands tightly—not hugging—just holding hands tightly: "Look at you! You're so old!" They didn't hide their tears, crying and laughing.I bit my lip trying not to cry. Their sincere excitement scares me. I don't know what will happen when I arrive in Shanghai tomorrow? The great-aunt smiled and held up a snapshot to compare with the father himself.Before leaving, her father sent her a photo of herself, and she recognized him by this photo.Originally, my father promised her in the letter that we would call her from the hotel as soon as we arrived in Guangzhou, but unexpectedly, they still rushed to pick us up. I don't know, will my sisters come to pick me up at the airport. I immediately picked up the disposable imaging camera and grabbed a shot for them.I took out a snapshot to show them. My father and Mrs. Zhan looked pious, each holding a corner of the photo, waiting patiently for the photo to be formed.My aunt was only five years older than my father, about seventy-seven years old, but she looked very old and shriveled, with thinning white hair and lost all her teeth.But I have heard many people say that Chinese women are younger than their actual age. My aunt looked up at me and whispered to herself: "Grow up." Then she searched the plastic bag in her elbow, and it was obvious that she was thinking about what kind of gift she should give me , she didn't expect that I was so old. A man and woman in their fifties rushed up and grabbed Dad's hand. Everyone just said excitedly, "Heh! Heh!" and couldn't say a word.They are the son and daughter-in-law of my aunt, and the other four people beside them are about the same age as me, and there is a little girl among them, about ten years old.They were introduced to us so quickly that I could barely figure out who was who. My aunt and my father have spoken Mandarin since childhood, but the rest of us speak Cantonese fluently.I can only understand Mandarin, but I can't speak it well.So I only heard my aunt and my father talking endlessly. "Oh, as expected," my dad said to me, "Li Gang passed away last summer." I didn't know who Li Gang was.All of a sudden I felt like an American who couldn't do anything without an interpreter.But right now the interpreter is throwing me aside and just talking about it. "Hi," I greeted the little girl, "I'm Jingmei." But the girl was just coy.I began to search for Cantonese that I could use, but the Cantonese that my Chinese friends in Chinatown taught me were full of swear words or simple expressions: "It's delicious!" "It tastes like sweeping garbage Same." Or "She's an ugly monster" or something.It really doesn't work.Suddenly I had an idea: I picked up the instant imaging camera and waved it at the little girl, and she immediately understood, posing like a fashion model, protruding her hips, lifting her breasts, and smiling sweetly.As soon as the flash went off, she jumped around giggling and waiting for the picture to show up. At this point we hailed a taxi.On the drive to the hotel, Lily, the girl, held my hand tightly and was always with me. Along the way, my aunt kept talking, and I couldn't get in a word. "You wrote that you would only stay here for one day," my aunt was blaming my father, "One day! Thank you for being able to say it. How can you have time to visit relatives and friends in one day? Taishan is still several hours away from Guangzhou. Woolen cloth. What else do you say, you will call us when you arrive at the hotel.This is bullshit, we don't even have a phone in the house. " I "choked" in my heart.I don't know, did Aunt Linda tell my sisters we'd call them from the hotel? My aunt continued to blame my dad: "I was so anxious that I was so anxious that I desperately asked my son to find a way. After racking our brains, we decided that the best way is to take a long-distance bus from Taishan to Guangzhou to pick you up." When our taxi dodged between the big trucks and buses, I was too scared to breathe.The driver kept tugging on the horn.I saw that the balconies of a row of houses along the road were full of clothes and other things to dry, and the bus was full of people, and even the faces of the passengers were pressed against the glass windows.There are a group of high-rise buildings in the past. I think it must be the city center of Guangzhou. From a distance, it looks like a city in the United States, with row upon row of high-rise buildings everywhere. When the speed of the car slowed down, I realized that there were many small shops along the street, and the shops inside were dark.There is an unfinished building in front of it. Its scaffolding is only made of bamboo poles and plastic ropes. Male and female workers stand on such scaffolding and operate without hard hats or safety belts. My aunt's screams sounded in my ear again: "No, if you don't go back and look at our village, our house, it will be very disrespectful to us. You don't know how successful my son is now, he is in the free market. I made a lot of money by trading vegetables on the Internet. Recently, we built a three-story building with new bricks. It is spacious and comfortable to live in. There are too many rooms to live in. The more money we earn, the more money we make , you Americans are not the only ones who make money." The taxi stopped in front of a luxurious building even more expensive than Hilton. "Is this the Communist China?" I almost cried out in surprise, then shook my head at my father and said, "I must have made a mistake, it must not be this hotel."We hurriedly took out our travel schedule and checked the order. We have repeatedly stated to the organizing agent that we don’t want to stay in a hotel that is too particular or too expensive. Generally, 30 to 40 dollars a night is fine.After checking, yes, this hotel is exactly the one booked in our schedule: Garden Building. How rich!I saw a waiter in a neat uniform rushing over to carry our luggage into the hall. I saw that the hall was surrounded by granite and bright mirrors, resplendent and resplendent.I was worried that the price of such a luxurious hotel would be too high, and I always wanted to show my great-aunts a little American style, so I was a little conflicted. But when I walked quickly to the registration office, I realized that this was indeed the room we had reserved, and the price was 34 yuan per night.So cheap, so cheap it makes me uneasy.At this time, my aunt and her family looked around, envious of this magnificent environment. Our room is on the eighteenth floor.When our whole family squeezed into the elevator, even my aunt, who loved to talk the most, fell silent.When the elevator reached the eighteenth floor and the door opened again, she started talking again.This made me feel that my aunt and the others seemed to have never taken such a long elevator. My father's two rooms are adjacent to each other, and the interior is also the same: the same carpet, curtains and bedspread, and a coffee table with a remote control panel between the two single beds.The bathroom has marble walls and floors.There are Heinkan beer, Coca-Cola and 7-up in the small refrigerator, as well as small bottles of Red Label whiskey and Caddy rum, small packages of MM'S chocolates, honey cashews and Caterbury chocolate bars.I couldn't help exhaling again: "Is this Communist China?" At this time, my father came into my room and said, "Auntie and the others think we should stay here for a few more days." He shrugged, "They think it's the most suitable place to reunite here, so that they can have more time to talk and have a lot less trouble." .” "What about eating?" I asked.For a long time, I have been dreaming of my first purely Chinese banquet: carved winter melon cup, beggar chicken, Peking duck... Dad took a room service booklet, turned to the menu page, ordered them, and said, "Here, that's what they want." I see: hamburgers, French fritters, apples and ice cream. While my aunt and the others were walking around the mall, I took the time to take a hot bath.The hotel supplies shampoo in small packets.When I opened them, I found their fragrance too strong, I think, or so the Chinese like it.I dab a little on my hair. Standing in the shower, I felt for the first time that I was living my life on my own, and strangely, I didn't feel at all relieved, but felt lonely and desolate.I thought about what my mother said, how to revive my genes to become Chinese, which I still can't understand. After my mother had just passed away, I felt like I didn't know much about a lot of things, which added to my grief. Now, I often have to ask myself: How could the Roujiu that my mother used to make have such a soft texture?My uncles who died in Shanghai, what are their names?How did the mother's two daughters get here all these years?How does she care about them?What is her dream?Even when she was angry with me, did she still miss those two daughters?Does she wish I were them?Does she bother because I am me and not them? three In the middle of the night, I heard someone tapping on the glass window. It was my father. While flicking the glass window with his fingers, he stared blankly at the darkness outside the window, chatting softly with his little aunt.Lily was lying next to me on the bed, which was full of people in all directions.I heard my father telling my aunt how he left his hometown that year, was admitted to Yenching University, and then went to a newspaper office in Chongqing to get a job. It was there that he met my mother, a young widow.Then they both fled back to their mother's hometown in Shanghai. Unexpectedly, the houses in their hometown were blown up, so they had to go to Guangdong, pass through there to Hong Kong, and then set off from Haiphong to San Francisco. "Suyun never mentioned to me that she has been trying to find her daughters all these years," he said softly to his aunt. A piece of heart disease, she has been blaming herself for abandoning them." "Where did she leave them? And how were they found?" asked the great-aunt. "It was when the Japanese invaded Guilin." My dad said. "The Japanese invaded Guilin?" said my aunt, "I've never heard that the Japanese invaded Guilin." "There is such a thing. At that time, I was working in the Chongqing newspaper. The Kuomintang ruled us, what news should be reported and what should not be reported. When Suyun fled on foot with the child, the twins were not yet one year old." "Hey! How could she abandon the twins?" The aunt sighed deeply, "In our family, I have never heard of such a thing." "What's their name?" she asked, and I listened, too.I have to remember the spelling of their names. "They took their father's surname as Wang, and they were called Chunyu and Chunhua respectively," said the father. "Does the name mean anything?" I asked. "Oh," my father explained to me in English while continuing to draw on the glass window: "Because they were all born in spring. Of course, the spring rain always comes before the flowers. Look, your mother has the temperament of a poet." .” I nodded, and my aunt nodded too, but she didn't lift her head up after a little down—she fell asleep. "What does that mother's name mean?" "Suyun—a long-cherished wish, meaning long-held hope. It's a very elegant name, unlike those flowers and fragrances..." Dad's eyes were moist again. "Then what does my name, Jingjing, mean?" "Exquisite, not just good, but pure good, good Rijia good." I think, for a long time, my mother must be very disappointed in me. "But why did she leave the twins on the road?" "I've always been puzzled by this. It wasn't until later, after I read the letter from your two sisters in Shanghai, that I realized that your mother doesn't have to blame herself for this at all. She is innocent. I take this as well. Aunt Linda told them." "what is the problem?" "After your mother escaped from Guilin—" my father began. "No, please speak in Chinese, really, I can understand." I interrupted him. He still stood by the window, looking at the dark night, and began to speak in Chinese. Four After escaping from Guilin, your mother walked on foot for a few days. She thought she could catch a car and take as many routes as possible. She was going to Chongqing to find her husband. She sewed her money and jewelry inside her clothes so tightly that she figured she could pay her car fare along the way.These jewels were all given to her by your grandmother. But until the third day, she failed to get a ride.The road was full of fleeing people, and everyone begged the driver to take a ride. These drivers were afraid of being entangled, so they drove past without stopping.So your mother can't get a ride at all, and at the same time, she's getting dysentery again. She carried two babies on her shoulders, and carried two suitcases in her hands. Her hands were blistered with blood, and then the blisters burst, and her skin was ripped apart.She had to leave one box, then another, with only her life-sustaining food and a few changes of clothing.Later, she even threw away the dry food, and she only had the pair of daughters.As she walked, she coaxed them with singing until she fainted by the side of the road. She knew she couldn't hold on anymore, she thought she couldn't walk anymore, and the Japanese were catching up behind her. She unfastened the child from the scarf wrap.Let them sit on the side of the road, and she herself lies beside them. "Take my children, please take them!" she pleaded with a car carrying three young men as they drove by, but they just gave her a blank glance and passed. "Take my children away, they will die on the side of the road with me." She pleaded bitterly to passers-by. Passers-by on the main road gradually became rare. She tore the lining of her clothes, piled jewelry and money in the swaddling clothes of her two children, and took out two photographs, one of her own parents and the other of her. Wedding photos with ex-husband.On the back of each photo, she wrote the child's name and the following words: "Please use the money and jewelry left behind to take care of these two children. When you are in peace, take the child to Li's house at No. 9 Huichang Road, Shanghai." Thank you so much, I will thank you again and again. Li Suyun and Wang Fu nodded." Then she touched the children's cheeks, lied to them that she was going to get them something to eat, and went away crying.Her only hope was that her daughter would be adopted by some well-meaning soul, and she had no hope of ever surviving. She no longer remembered how she left her daughters, how she walked, and finally fell to the ground. When she woke up, she was already in a big truck, surrounded by moaning patients.At first she thought she was in hell, until an American nun leaned over to comfort her, and she realized that she was saved, but she never had time to go back and rescue her child. When she arrived in Chongqing, she found out that her husband had passed away two weeks ago.She immediately laughed like crazy; she felt that she was so stupid, suffered so much, walked so far, and ended up with nothing! I met your mother in a hospital.She was lying on the cot, barely able to move.Her dysentery had left her terribly weak.I went to the hospital because a piece of shrapnel chipped off my toe.At that time, she was out of her mind and kept talking to herself: "Look at my dress," she said.It is true that she was wearing a silk dress quite out of proportion to the war years, which was rather soiled, but it was undoubtedly a beautiful dress. "Look at my face," she said, turning her thin and dirty face to one side, but her eyes were still bright as stars, "Can you see, is there hope in my face?" "I think I have nothing left but these two: clothes and hope," she continued, "I don't know what I'm going to lose next, hope or clothes?" It was later learned that an old peasant woman had adopted them.Later, when the two sisters grew up, the old peasant woman told them the truth. "How can I bear to leave you?" The peasant couple, Mei Qing and Mei Han, lived in caves near Guilin. There were thousands of such caves in the area, and many people lived in caves until the end of the war.Every once in a while, the Mei family went out to the road to pick up food left by passers-by, and sometimes brought back some other things: for example, once, it was a set of extremely delicately painted porcelain bowls, and another time, They are two brand new woolen blankets, even they themselves admit: sin!But that's war!On one of these occasions, they brought back the twins. Both devout Muslims believe the twins represent an auspicious sign of double happiness. That night, when they discovered that the child had so many rings and bracelets and other jewelry, they became more convinced of their guess.From the back of the photo they found that the pair of children came from a decent family.But neither of them could read, and it was not until several months later that someone asked someone to read the words behind the photo to them.From then on, the old couple loved the twins very much, just like their own biological children. In 1952, the old woman's husband died.The twins are eight years old.The old woman felt that it was time to find them a real home. She never talked about pay.She said she loves the two children, so all she wants is for them to regain their rights: a better life, a better house, a better education.The only thing she hoped was that the girl's family in Shanghai would keep her as a nanny for the children, and she was sure they would. Of course, the No. 9 Huichang Road in the former French Concession she found was completely changed. A factory had already been built on it, and none of the workers knew the whereabouts of the people who used to live here. All the houses in that area were destroyed by the war. In fact, as early as 1945, your mother and I have been here at No. 9 Huichang Road, hoping to find out the whereabouts of your grandmother's house and the two twins. Your mother and I left China in 1947.We went back to Guilin once, and went to Changsha and Kunming... Along the way, whenever she saw a girl who was about the same age as the twins, she always took a few extra glances.Finally we came to America, and I think even on the boat she was delusional about finding them, but once we got to America, she never mentioned them again, and I thought she had given up. But since China and the United States communicated by mail, she has sent letters to Shanghai and Guilin to inquire about the whereabouts of the children.I don't know, Aunt Linda told me that.But at that time, many road names were changed, and many acquaintances died or moved. People said that she was undoubtedly looking for a needle in a haystack. But your mother still did not give up her efforts until the end, I think she made up her mind to go to China to find them herself.She once said to me: "Canning, we should go back before we are too old. In a few years, we will not be able to walk anymore!" I told her that it was too late, let's go Don't move! At the time, I just thought she wanted to go back to China for a trip.I didn't know she still wanted to find her two daughters.So my saying "too late" must have hit her hard, and she would have thought that her two daughters must be dead.I think this kind of worry and worry is the direct cause of her death. Maybe it was your mother's ghost who helped a classmate of hers in Shanghai and ran into your two twin sisters by chance.She was shopping for shoes at the No. 1 Department Store on Nanjing Road that day.The female classmate said that it was like a dream. She saw a pair of twin women, which vaguely reminded her of your mother. She hurried after them, calling their names.At first the two women were stunned because they had changed their names.But your mother's classmate still insisted: "You are Wang Chunyu and Wang Chunhua, right?" For a moment, both of them looked very excited, because they both remembered the name written on the back of the photo, they never thought that the newlyweds in the photo The young couple has become the ghosts of the underworld, but they are still looking for their children. Fives I hadn't had a good night's sleep and I was exhausted at the airport.My aunt didn't go back to bed with me until three o'clock in the morning, and she was snoring loudly.I lay with my eyes open, thinking about my mother's story, and stayed up all night.I don't really know my mother very well, but I just got to know her now, but I have lost her forever. At the airport, we waved goodbye to each other.In this world, we say goodbye to people all the time, in all kinds of different ways.I know we won't see each other again. My aunt smiled and waved goodbye to me, she was really old and trembling.I held my aunt with one hand and Lily with the other, and I had a feeling that I was going from one funeral to another.In my hand, I hold two air tickets to Shanghai. We will arrive in Shanghai in two hours. After the plane took off, I closed my eyes and thought about how to tell them about my mother in my broken Chinese. A thousand words, where to start? "Wake up, we've arrived." In a daze, my father pushed me awake.I just felt a tightness in my throat and a throbbing in my chest.It was gray outside the window and we had landed on the runway. We got off the plane and walked towards the airport building on the asphalt road. At this time, I really hoped that my mother could live to this day... At the same time, I felt very disturbed. I didn't know what was waiting in front of me. Just move forward mechanically. "Here she is!" someone in the crowd yelled.Then I saw a small, short-haired woman with her hand over her mouth, and she was crying. I know she is not my mother, but that face is my mother's.I distinctly remember getting lost once when I was five years old and she was sure I was dead.But when I came back to her again, she showed such an expression. Now I see my mother again, two mothers, waving to me, holding up my photo that I sent them when I left.As soon as I walked through the gate, we hugged involuntarily. All doubts and expectations disappeared, and all that was left was a tight hug. "Mom! Mom!" We whispered, as if Mom was among us. The older sisters looked at me and said with relief: "Our younger sister has grown up." I looked at them again. I didn't find the expression that my mother often had on their faces, but they always had an indescribable feeling towards me. Kindness and kinship.I finally saw my part of Chinese blood.Heh, this is my home, the genes that melted in my blood, the Chinese genes, after so many years, finally began to boil. Our sisters stood in groups, holding each other's hands, laughing at each other, and wiping each other's tears. With a "click", the flash light came on, and my father grabbed a shot for us. 我们紧张地注视着那张还呈一片灰绿的快照，渐渐地，我们三人的形象开始清晰了。我们一声不吭地盯着那逐渐明亮的画面，我们都很像妈妈：一样的眉目，一样的嘴唇，我们看见妈妈了，正惊喜地注视着她的梦幻成真……