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Author: Fan Xiaoxi
Some of my classmates and friends started sinking into the community as volunteers in early February. Lu, a classmate of mine, has been a volunteer in the community for a whole month.
In Wuhan dialect, the community is the most difficult place to deal with. Every day, there are various tasks to handle, such as residents using cars, transporting patients, picking up discharged patients, buying groceries, delivering groceries, and checking body temperature. It is inevitable that there will be some arguments and fights. Lu said that during this period, he has encountered all kinds of strange people and things, and he would take some trivial matters and turn them into short videos to share with our classmates.
Yesterday, Lu took the initiative to find me and said, "You should write about the stories of the elderly. They are the group of people that I have been most touched by in this month. The elderly don't have smartphones, they don't know how to buy groceries online, and many of them are not well-informed about what happened in Wuhan and the current situation of the epidemic. Especially in the early stages, many of them were confused when they got sick, and some even thought it was just a cold."
Lu is responsible for an old community in Wuhan, which has many areas similar to urban villages. Most of these houses were built in the 1960s and 1970s, mostly low-rise bungalows, occasionally with some three or four-story buildings. There is no unified front gate and back gate for these places, and it is difficult to close them off. Currently, Wuhan is using the method of "blocking off" by using iron plates, discarded bicycles, etc. to block the intersections.
Lu told me many stories about the elderly, and the most memorable one was the story of an old lady surnamed Chen. For the convenience of narration, I will use Lu's first-person perspective to tell the story of Grandma Chen -
On February 12th, the tenth day of sinking into the community, we went door-to-door for the usual investigation. On the way, we met an elderly couple who looked about eighty years old, with all white hair.
Wuhan is empty now, and seeing them holding hands, I suddenly felt that it was beautiful and a bit touching. I slowed down and asked if they needed help carrying groceries. At that time, the residential areas in Wuhan were not completely closed, and a few people would still come out wearing masks to buy groceries nearby.
That's how I met this elderly couple. Grandma Chen talked more. She told us that she and her husband have been married for 61 years. Grandpa Wang has had cancer for a year and also has dementia. They have three sons and three daughters-in-law, and together they have five grandchildren.
Because of his dementia, Grandpa Wang doesn't remember the names of his grandchildren, but he remembers many things about Grandma Chen. He can say that Grandma Chen's name is Chen Xiujuan, he remembers he was 22 years old when he married Grandma Chen, he remembers Grandma Chen's birthday is on the ninth day of the third lunar month, and he remembers that on the day Grandma Chen married him, she gave him a red cotton handkerchief and they ate a bowl of beef noodles together.
In Grandpa Wang's memory, there are no children and no time. It seems like it was just recently that he married Grandma Chen. He always smiles and holds Grandma Chen's hand, saying, "This is my wife, I want to treat her well."
Later, the community was completely closed, and I forgot to care about this elderly couple because I was too busy.
On March 3rd, Grandma Chen called and said that Grandpa Wang's condition had been getting worse recently and she hoped we could come and deliver some groceries. Grandma Chen said somewhat embarrassedly, "We don't know how to use the internet or WeChat, we don't know how to buy groceries."
The next day, I brought groceries to Grandma Chen's house. Grandpa Wang was lying in bed, looking very weak. I asked why they didn't go to the hospital, or they should go to the hospital. Grandma Chen said that Grandpa Wang was in the late stage of cancer and there was no hope. Chemotherapy had been interrupted for over a month due to the epidemic, so what difference would it make to go to the hospital?
I asked Grandma Chen if there was anything I could help with. At this time, Grandpa Wang mumbled, "I want to eat a piece of pork."
At that moment, my nose tingled.
Grandma Chen said that since the city was sealed off, the prices of vegetables had gone up, and the prices of meat had gone up even more (recently, pork was 70 yuan per kilogram), and there was also a shortage of supplies. They hadn't eaten meat for a long time. Later, the entire community was also sealed off, and this elderly couple was completely cut off from the outside world and didn't know how to buy food.
I asked, "What about your three sons? Actually, they can order groceries and meat online and have them delivered."
In the area I am responsible for, almost all the elderly people don't have WeChat, don't understand online payment, and don't know how to do various group purchases. Their children are also isolated in other communities and cannot deliver groceries to their parents. The children would order food through WeChat, fill in their parents' address and phone number, and have someone deliver the goods.
Grandma Chen said, "My sons don't care..."
I was a little angry. The elderly have worked hard all their lives to raise three children. How can they not care about their parents' life and death in the face of such a big disaster?
"I'll call them." I said.
Grandma Chen probably thought it was embarrassing to expose family problems. She had that pride that many traditional Chinese women have, and she refused to let me make the call.
But I kept insisting, and she handed me the phone. What surprised me was that I called the phones of all three sons one after another. The eldest son said that he didn't even have pork to eat and couldn't take care of it. The second son, I called four times, but no one answered. The youngest son said that he lives in Shanghai and doesn't know how to buy things in Wuhan, so he can only try. He also said, "Give me my parents' address, if I can buy it, I'll deliver it directly to them."
I felt a chill. "You don't even remember your parents' address?" I asked.
"I work all over the place, working hard from morning till night to make a living, there are too many things to worry about, who remembers this?" The youngest son said.
"Do you know that your father is seriously ill?" I asked in a bad tone.
"He has cancer, even gods can't do anything about it." He said.
Looking at Grandma Chen's sad expression, I said, "I'll go buy pork for you."
The next day, early in the morning, I brought pork to Grandma Chen's house. I suggested again whether she should go to the hospital, but Grandma shook her head and said she didn't want to go to the hospital, she just wanted me to accompany Grandpa Wang.
In the afternoon of that day, Grandma Chen called me and said that Grandpa Wang had just passed away. He had eaten a piece of braised pork that she cooked for lunch and said, "It's delicious."
Holding the phone, I, a man in his thirties or forties, couldn't help but shed tears. The fragility of life exceeds our imagination.
I called the funeral home and took Grandpa Wang away.
Grandma Chen stood there, watching the funeral home's car, she didn't cry out loud, she just stood there quietly, maybe she had already made enough psychological preparations, or maybe in her life, she had already seen through life and death. The early spring in Wuhan is still cold, and Grandma Chen is wearing a cotton jacket, but it can't hide her frail and thin body.
I said to Grandma, "You should live with your son. You're old and alone, you can't live alone anymore."
Grandma Chen didn't directly answer my question. She took out an old smartphone and showed me some photos in the camera. She opened the album and showed me a group photo. In the photo, there were about twenty or so old ladies dancing gracefully in a square dance.
Grandma Chen said, "Two years ago, I used to go and dance with them. Later, when Grandpa Wang got sick, I stopped going and took care of him wholeheartedly. Our dance group has 23 aunties, and in just this month, I heard that three of them have passed away."
I didn't know what to say. In this spring, many people in Wuhan have lost their parents.
I understand Grandma Chen's answer. She means that she has already seen through life and death, so what's the difference in living with someone else? Besides, whether to live with her son or not is not something she can decide.
Under the epidemic situation, no one in Wuhan is a survivor. Every citizen is a victim, just to varying degrees. Among them, the elderly, as the vulnerable group, suffer even more.
Due to their physical and other reasons, the elderly have weaker abilities to survive. They don't have the same economic ability as young people, they don't know how to use the internet, and many elderly people are already paralyzed and can't even take care of themselves. I really hope that there will be more resources and manpower to pay attention to them and help them. Because we all have parents, and we will all grow old ourselves.
On March 7th, Wuhan reported 74 new confirmed cases, the first time it dropped to double digits. However, the wounds of Wuhan are still bleeding, and the wounds of Hubei have not yet healed.
I saw a comment on Weibo, which means that the people of Hubei and Wuhan have been complaining for more than a month, so please stop complaining.
I really want to ask this netizen: If you or your loved ones are experiencing the days from January 23rd to now in Wuhan, I believe you may have more grievances to express.
In addition to the epidemic, the people of Hubei also face many difficulties, and the deepest wound among us is the exclusion from our compatriots. I understand the need for prevention and fear of infection, but the dismissal of workers from Hubei and other actions, such as isolating Hubei residents for 14 days and not allowing them to return home, I think it is too hurtful.
A male reader from Shi Shou City, Hubei Province, told me backstage: his boss directly told him not to come to work anymore, saying that even after the epidemic is over and Hubei is unsealed, he cannot come back within a year. Other colleagues also said that if he comes back, they will all resign.
A friend from Wuhan who settled in another province in the spring of 2019 recently told me that her 6-year-old son came back crying after playing at a friend's house, saying that the friend's grandmother said he was from Wuhan and had the virus. My friend was very angry. She has been living here for a year. Is the novel coronavirus carried in the bones of Wuhan people?
I also saw online that a person driving back to work had to pass through Wuhan on the way. The boss said that he could detour to Hunan or other provinces, just not through Wuhan or Hubei. Even if he didn't open the windows, it was not allowed. Otherwise, he shouldn't come back.
Having experienced life and death, experiencing the panic of the city being sealed off (don't say here that everyone in the country is sealed at home. The sealing of Hubei is different from the sealing of any other place. In every building, there are many confirmed cases, and every community has deaths.), experiencing the sudden collapse of one family after another, next, the people of Hubei may face a longer and more difficult problem, which is the understanding and acceptance of the people nationwide.
This understanding is definitely not just shouting "Wuhan, come on", but truly understanding and accepting these helpless and innocent people through actions.
The people of Hubei and Wuhan are not the kind of people who are melodramatic and love to complain. They are truly grateful for all kinds of assistance. That 9-year-old girl said, "I thank you on behalf of Wuhan." That 86-year-old grandma knelt down in front of the medical staff when she was discharged, and many, many people are thanking those who have helped us with their actions. This gratitude will last our whole lives and should not be forgotten.
9-year-old Wuhan girl: I thank you on behalf of Wuhan.
86-year-old Wuhan grandma, kneeling down to medical staff: Thank you.
Gratitude and licking wounds are not contradictory.
Empty streets of Wuhan
In fact, Grandma Chen is just a microcosm of countless elderly people in Wuhan. Behind these families, there are many more families quietly disappearing.
In the sunny March, with kites flying and grass growing outside the window, it is a scene of spring. Wuhan is getting better, Hubei is getting better, but the wounds in the hearts of the people of Hubei have not healed, those wounds are still painful and bleeding.
Please allow the people of Hubei and Wuhan to cry for a while when they can't hold back, while they are working hard. Will you?
May Wuhan thrive again, bustling with traffic and people.
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