Yongji is very near and far for me. Close because mom's family is there, but she is far married. It's far away, because my mother never picks me up and rarely mentions it. Occasionally grandma is not at ease and goes to the north to visit her. Only then can I hear them talking about people and things in their hometown. I know many relatives live there. My mother has many brothers and sisters. She is the second child. She is maverick and indifferent, and her family has long been used to her being alone. Coupled with the limited economic conditions of each family at that time, the matter of "visiting relatives" was almost zero on my mother's side. Grandma always wraps jiaozi and beef stuffing for us several times when she comes. I don't stop eating until my stomach is round every time. It's a pity that grandma won't stay long, a month at most, and more children in Yongji need the care of the elderly. Grandma went back, and so did the delicious jiaozi.
The first time I went to Yongji was within a month after I got married. I went to my mother's house to meet relatives all over the world. My hometown calls this "recognizing relatives". Finally, I met several uncles and aunts I had never met before, and we got together and talked about my mother's childhood. Everything is as fresh as yesterday. I look at these faces that are very similar to my mother. They have never been together, but they are not strangers. Blood is really a magical thing, and neither time nor distance can stop it. Similar things in surging blood always care about and depend on each other.
In those days, my husband and I took turns eating in various places. It was steaming, noisy up and down, and it was fun to push a cup for a change. Finally, the staple food must be Yongji jiaozi, stuffed with beef! I ate my stomach round again. It turns out that the food in my hometown is related to our relatives and friends. Behind my appetite, I vaguely hear the call of my hometown and the concern of my relatives.
The second time I went to Yongji was yesterday, and I rushed to attend my uncle's funeral. Big JIU is my mother's brother. He has three sisters. He is the first boy in the family, so he has been spoiled since childhood and has no worries about food and clothing. So Big Uncle became the tallest and strongest one in the family. Almost all the enjoyment of his life is in his mouth. He has eaten all the restaurants in Yongji, big and small, and jiaozi is his favorite. He often says that "the more a spoiled child drinks, the more he eats", and he looks happy and satisfied-this is what my aunt told me. Uncle is proficient in temperament, and he writes down the score after listening to any song once. Any musical instrument, after two rounds of pondering, will play beautiful music-this is what my aunt told me. Uncle also likes to invent. In the 1970s, he put an engine on his bicycle, converted it into a motorcycle, and galloped in the streets of Yongji, which was very cool! -This is what my cousin said. So a man who lived a full life died suddenly? Unwilling to believe, unwilling to accept.
When I eat Yongji jiaozi in the future, should I wander in my mind?