I had a dream yesterday, that my past grandfather stood with his back toward me without saying anything. Maybe he was not satisfied with me. My grandma died 3 days ago, I should have written something, but I just waited and waited again. Words means little to the loved ones, whether or not you write something, the loved ones will not be back again. But it is always too late to express your love and gratitude to the people who love you so much.
Never wait or it will be too late, leaving nothing but regret.
Last Thursday, we could have a 3-day holiday because of Dragon boat festival. My fiance and I bought zongzi, fruits, and 3 boxes of milk, some for my parents and some for my grandma.
My fiance advised that I should ask for half a day off so that we could have enough time to visit my grandma.
But I did't take his advice, for I did't want to miss the 2 classes in the afternoon, because it was the last school year of my students, they would go to the middle school soon.In my deep heart, my principle is not letting private affairs interferring the work too much. But it turned out that I was absolutely wrong that day. I did't miss the 2 classes, but I did miss the last time I saw my grandma.
Nobody can perceive the future, the only thing we can do is to grasp every chance to love the most important people in our hearts.
Whatever how regretful "we" are now, the said "we" includes me, my mother, my two uncles. Every of us regrets for not taking good care of my grandma, but at the same time we are constantly looking for excuses for ourselves. We are always busy, busy for working for winning bread to support the family, busy for looking after the children.
When it is hard for us to balance work with taking care of the olds, we unconsiciously spend more time on work because work rewards much more; and when it is hard to balance time in taking care of children with looking after the olds, we put children the foremost because nuturing children reward more than taking care of the olds.
Love is sweet, love is cruel because it has orders. Life is like a relay race in the river, one constantly receives love from the upper reaches and in the meanwhile pouring love to the lower reaches,