Birthday is a line, one is me, the other end is a grandmother; birthday is a circle, trapping the grandmothers laugh, trapping my memory; birthday is a river, that rush of water, and put my thoughts to the grandmother side .
Grandmas birthday song, so deep, so tactful; my birthday is poetry, and wrote finished naive mature. I remember my grandmothers birthday, but can not remember his birthday; I remember her birthday, but can not remember my own birthday. I said: “Grandma, your memory a little bit bad, even remembering your birthday.” Grandma smiled and said: “Hadron good memory, able to remember my birthday.” Constant change from the deciduous to teeth, is the birthday of my grandmother strung with golden childhood. Every time my birthday, my grandmother said: “longevity noodles to eat, live to be 100 years old.” I wish that said: “The grandmother also live for 100 years.” Grandma smiled, very happily; I laughed, laughed well silly. In the laughter, I draw a circle ring.
Grandmother birthday, so deep, so deep, tell me, how can not read. Candlelight is the grandmother to see that smiling face filled with wrinkles, such as how many brilliant sunset like how many troubled. Mother said: “Older people have a birthday, it is necessary more than ever old.” Yes ah, old grandmother. How I did not find it?
Everyone would like hanging on time, but who can keep the years? Grow up, Im away from home along with his father, grandmother seldom birthday. Her birthday one year, I bought her a tiny radio. Later, the mother said, feeling the small radio grandmother smiles, tears started to flow out. However, the grandmother in “strong like a child to come back,” the murmuring sound sick, very sick very heavy. I have not had time to see grandma one last time, when grandmother went to get that rush. Grandmother holding that tiny radio, in the “strong son, my child,” went the sound of the call, never to go … … in my next birthday, the grandmother never see that kind of smile , and there are only distraction that can not miss.