Chapter 24 Part Four: The Sun Dies at Night

After heaven finishes with grandma, we hope she comes back, thank you.My daughter wrote it in the guest book for my mother's funeral.Her words show the self-righteousness of teenagers and their conflicting views on worldly things.But I saw my mother again and heard her explain how the world of the dead works, and how others can call her back just because they remember her. Maybe there was something in Maria's words back then. The glass shard storm at Miss Therma's house died down.I squeezed my eyes shut to make it stop.A lot of glass shards pierced my skin.I wanted to smack off the broken glass, but I couldn't even do that.I am getting weaker and weaker and withering away.The day with my mother slowly dimmed.

Am I dying? I don't know, Charlie.Only God knows. Is this heaven? This is Pipewell Beach.do not you remember? If I die Can I be with you if I die? she laughed.Oh, you want to be with me now. Maybe you think my mother is cruel, but that's what she is, kind of funny, kind of mocking.If she hadn't died, she would have said the same thing when we met. She also has good reason to say so.So many times, I chose not to be with her.Too busy and too tired.In no mood.Go to church?No thanks.Come for dinner?sorry.Come and see me?No way, maybe next week. You count how much time you could have spent with your mother.It can be as long as a lifetime.

At this time, she held my hand.After visiting Miss Therma, we moved on.The scene changes, and we enter some people's lives and stop for a while.Some of these people I recognized as my mother's old friends; some were men I didn't know, men who had admired her: a butcher named Armando, a tax lawyer named Howard, a man named Gerhard Nose watchmaker.Mother spends only a moment with each of them, smiling at them or sitting in front of them. Are they thinking of you?I said. Um.She nodded. As long as someone misses you, you go to that person, no matter where that person is? No, she said: not everywhere.

We appear next to a man who is staring out the window.Then, we come to another man, lying in a hospital bed. so many.I said. They're just men, Charlie.decent man.Some are widowers. Have you ever dated them? No. They dated you? many times. Why are you coming to see them now? Oh, I guess, it's a woman's privilege.She put her hands together, touched her nose, and covered a faint smile.You know, it's nice to have someone miss you. I examine her face.She's almost eighty, but her beauty is undeniable.Wrinkles make her look even more graceful.The eye behind the lens.Her hair, once black with a midnight blue glow, was now a grayish silvery white on a cloudy afternoon.These men saw her as a woman, but I never saw her as a woman.I never knew the part of her called Pauline, which was what her parents called her: nor the part of her called Percy, which was what her friends called her.All I know is that she's Ma, and that's the name I gave her.All I saw was her serving dinner in trays with oven mitts, and all I saw was her driving us to a game of bowling.

Why didn't you get married after that?I asked. charlie.She lowered her eyelids: Forget it. I was serious.Don't you feel lonely when we grow up? She looks away.Sometimes I do wonder.But then you and Roberta had children, and I had grandchildren.I also have some female friends here.And it's been so many years, Charlie. She turned her palms up and smiled.I forgot the little joy I used to have when I listened to my mother tell her own story. Life goes by fast, doesn't it, Charlie? right.I murmured. People who waste their time should feel ashamed.We always think we have a lot of time.

I thought about how many days I gave to alcohol.The nights I can't remember.The mornings I fell asleep.Those hours slipped from my hands. Do you remember she laughed: I dressed you up as a mummy for Halloween?Then it rained? I look at the ground.You ruined my life! I'll be blaming others then. You should have some dinner.she says. As she said this, we went back to her kitchen and sat down at the round table for the last time.Fried chicken, yellow rice and grilled eggplant are on the table.Hot food, familiar food.She cooks food a hundred times for her sister and me.But now, instead of being dumbstruck as I had been earlier in this room, I felt agitated, as if I knew something bad was coming.She looked at me with concern in her eyes.I want to divert her attention.

Talk about your family.I said. Charlie, she said: I told you these things. Say it again. So she said it.She told me that her parents, both immigrants, died before I was born.She said she had two uncles and an aunt who seemed to be crazy, not only refused to learn English, but always believed that some families were cursed.She told me she had two cousins, Joe and Eddie, who lived on the other side.Usually each relative has a little thing for others to remember.She was afraid of dogs to death.When he was fifteen he wanted to join the navy.Now I think it is very important to be able to connect a person's name with his deeds.Roberta and I used to roll our eyes when she mentioned these things.But many years later, after her funeral, Maria asked about who was related to whom in the family, and I couldn't answer for a long time.I can't remember.A big chunk of our family history went down with my mother.You should never let your past disappear like I did.

This time, I listened carefully to my mother counting each member of the family.Every time she talked about a person, she bent down a finger to mark it.After she finished speaking, she put her hands together and interlocked her ten fingers as if they were the characters in the family. Anyway, she half hummed: that's I miss you so much, Mom. The words flowed from my mouth.She laughed, but did not answer.She seemed to be thinking about the sentence, trying to sort out my intentions, like a fisherman pulling up a net. Then, as the day draws to a close, the sun sinks below the horizon of our world.At this moment, she clicked her tongue, made a sound, and said: We still have a place to go.