A man who loves flowers is always gentle

Men who love to grow flowers are always gentle.

01

My grandfather is an extremely serious man. He seldom smiles.

According to my mother, when they were young, Grandpa laid down "family rules" for them: they must go home before nine o'clock, report when they go out, don't stay in bed, and don't pull with the opposite sex.... no, no, no. And so on, my mother said it with helplessness.

At that time, there was a joke on the Internet about a couple going on a date by the lake. A wave came over. The girl said, "what a beautiful ripple." the boy disdained that it was just a wave. You really don't laugh, my grandfather is still that kind of person. When I was shopping, my grandmother occasionally wanted to be spoiled. As soon as my grandfather stared and took a step, the person disappeared.

You really don't laugh, my grandfather is still that kind of person. When my grandfather first got married, I went shopping with my grandmother, and my grandmother occasionally wanted to show off. As soon as my grandfather stared and stepped, he disappeared.

Romance and sentiment have nothing to do with him forever. After a long time, everyone got used to Grandpa. He was like a cold and hard steel ruler, not half soft at all.

But I think, in the depths of my grandfather's heart, there must be a touch of tenderness.

02

Because I believe that men who love to grow flowers must have this soft heart.

Grandpa loved growing flowers most in his life. In his opinion, growing flowers requires a sense of ritual. It's about his love of life, his sensitivity to happiness, and sometimes it's an end and a beginning.

His yard is full of different flowers. There are common roses, roses, primroses, corals. There are also some ordinary plants. What I like most is the rose. At that time, my grandfather chose a variety with good disease resistance, called Blue Sky. After the flowers are in full bloom, there is a light blue-purple hue, which is very special.

Whenever a flower blossoms, I can feel my grandfather's joy.

Grandpa even signed up for an account of Xianyu, on which he occasionally gave free flowers and plants. In his view, the process of planting flowers is pleasant, and sharing is a kind of joy.

03

That year, Grandpa did not know where to transplant a crabapple tree, which is supposed to be lax about the environment and easy to feed. But I don't know if it is the cause of "disobedience to soil and water". Even if Grandpa takes good care of it, the crabapple tree is still not growing well, or even slowly withered, as if it were going to die.

Grandpa frowned. A few months later, my uncle, who was far away from home, had an accident and his wrist was broken by a machine.

And that crabapple tree, I didn't see it blossom. It's going to die in the end.

Grandma cried bitterly, but Grandpa didn't say a word. His expression was still serious, but he just stayed in the hospital silently, always with his uncle.

Grandpa grew old quickly during that time, and he was busy taking care of his uncle and the begonia tree. Water and fertilize.

The following year, the begonia unexpectedly sent out new green teeth.

04

After my uncle's wrist got better, Grandpa planted more flowers. It was interesting for me to take a jasmine plant home from my grandfather. On the day I took it back, more than half of the jasmine bloomed, fragrant and pleasant, and the petals were thick and shiny. I can't put it down.

I was very excited the other day and watered the jasmine every day. But I am a careless person in the end. There are so many heavy rains in summer that I forget to move the flowerpot into the house. Jasmine was washed away by Rain Water for more than ten hours, and finally she was half dead.

My mother followed my grandfather's example and cut off all the dead leaves and branches of the jasmine, leaving only a bare branch.

She swore that it would grow back later.

However, a year later, the last branch also withered. Broke my last expectations.

I told my grandfather that he was very old. He stood in the yard and watered it. The setting sun dyed his white hair blond. He said: "planting flowers, just like life, flowers will not die, its withering is for better blooming."

Later, Grandpa cut off a small section of the dead branch and carved it into a bead and strung it on a red rope. I've been wearing it for years, and I think it's the most romantic gift I've ever received.

05

Flowers don't die.

Every time it dies, it is a reincarnation, and then it blooms again, year after year.

When I read my grandfather's words, I deeply felt the softness of his heart. Many years after his death, I always believed that he was waiting for me in another way.

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