A bad decision of one generation, rolling down, to affecting the next generations, translated…
First time I’d ever heard the idiom of “moving the rocks, severing off the ties”, it was from my fifth aunt. There were, six brothers and three sisters on my mother’s side of the family. My maternal grandfather was a farmer before he’d passed away, the family lived at the foot of the Shui-Wei Hills in Daja. And, the name their town, meant, that it’s located, at the end of a river, it is, a very beautiful place; and still, this seemingly plain and ordinary agricultural household, was actually, quite turbulent from the inside. Because they couldn’t make enough money from the sales of the planted rice, other than my eldest uncle who works for the railroad systems, my third, fourth, and sixth uncle went to Keelung to find jobs; it wasn’t at all easy, finding work in a foreign place, and, for my second and fifth uncle, life isn’t a piece of cake either, everybody had that feeling of badness that they didn’t and couldn’t find a proper outlet for.
Every year before New Year’s Eve, my uncles would return with their families, the six brothers gathered, alcohol became their common bond, after a few rounds, they’d gotten intoxicated and spoken very rashly, and, the arguments would, surface. My uncle in Keelung wanted to sell the patch of land he’d gotten as inheritance from my grandfather off, and wanted to focus on developing his career away from home; after my uncle who lives in Daja heard, he’d gotten furious, said that they were the ones, working the land, how can he just want to, sell it off as he’d pleased.
They’d gotten into conflict, and, started swearing at one another then, pulling and tugging, and, if someone tried to intervene, then, the war would affect everybody else who was there. And, we saw those who were trying to mediate, who’d pulled on, getting into this huge brawl, and, a group of people had, stumbled from this end, to that.
The reasons for the arguments may be different, but, the results were, always, the same. Even as it was, the middle of the nights, my uncles who’d come home from afar would, picked up the suitcases, and, rushed off with their separate families. As the six of them brother met up, they would drink, and after they got drunk, they’d started, brawling, then, after the brawls, they’d left, in a hurry again, and, the year would begin and end like this. No matter how hard the adults were arguing, I’d, naively believed, that their arguments weren’t related to me, and, us kids would still played with each other. But, after my father escape to another city, to dodge paying up his debts, my situation changed too.
not my picture here…
Because my fifth uncle was also a creditor, I’d once bumped into him on the roads, and, although I saw his face turned cold instantly, but, the road was as wide as it was, and I can only, keep walking onward. And called out to him, “Fifth uncle”, and, just as I’d expected, he’d rolled his eyes at me, then, turned his face away from me.
From time to time, I’d gone home with my mother to visit, and, I’d had to, watch my fifth uncle’s face. Although, his face looked angry, my mother still smiled and told me to greet him, and, as my uncle heard my scared voice, he’d let out a “hmmmmmmmmmmmmm”, he’d given face back to my mother, somewhat. On the way home, my mother wiped away her tears with one hand, and nagged on, that before she’d married, she’d worked so very hard, to weave up those straw mats to put her younger brothers through school………it’s just, what’s past, is past, who can, remember it all?
My fifth aunt was small-framed, delicate looking, from before when we’d visited, she’d always greeted us warmly, looked very pleasant, and talked to us. But, after the debts my father owed accumulated, she’d ran to our house and screamed out at us. I saw how her delicate, beautiful face became, twisted and red from the screaming, with one hand on her waist, another pointing to the skies and ground, then, at us, her thin body started shaking so hard with her screaming louder and louder. My mother hid out in the house, not daring to come out, just cried in silence. One evening, my fifth aunt came to scream again, left the words, “Moving the rocks, severing the ties”.
The road home for my mother, had, stopped for a bit, as my grandmother’s birthday arrived, I was the one, delivering the pork’s feet to her. And, my aunt’s words had, for a time, vanished, as we got older, and, after many years, the way that my uncles connected still never changed, they’d still gotten drunk, and, as they met up, they’d drink, and after they drank, they’d, lost control, and started ranting endlessly.
After that, my mother passed away, and my eldest failed in his finances, and, walked down the same path as my father had, escape to a foreign place. And this time, there wasn’t any finger pointing, my uncles, once again, severed off ALL the ties with us.
Half a century had, rushed on by, and, every time those words surfaced to my mind, I’d felt so emotional. On the path of life, because we were, related by blood, we could interact with each other amicably, but, with a bad financial call, damaging the relationships with your relatives, it’s like, bringing in a HUGE rock, to block the path to our filial connections, and since, the blood ties were, severed off.
So, this, is how the bad decisions of the adults had, caused the trials in the children’s lives, the children didn’t do anything wrong here, and yet, they’re the ones, with the consequences to pay, all because their previous generations didn’t make the right choices in life.