Mr. Nam is 57 years old this year, and has just retired not long ago. For decades as a grassroots cadre, he has held many positions, from the village Youth Union to the Farmers' Association, and the Vietnam Fatherland Front Committee of the commune. However, when he reached the commune, he was only a deputy, taking on more work than authority. It was not until the last years of his civil service career, when people reviewed the structure, the region, and all sorts of things, that he was promoted to the position of chief. But it did not last long before the apparatus was merged and streamlined. Before the position of "chief" could warm up, he had to submit a resignation letter according to the 178 regime.
When he held the decision to retire, he felt his back suddenly light, but his heart was heavy as a stone. Over the years, the job, though hard, was the pillar for his survival, the place where he held on to a bit of dignity as a hard-working man who had started his career at sea. Now that he was home, he suddenly felt empty, as if the familiar flow of days had been taken away.
Mrs. Luu is seven years younger than him, selling shrimp and fish at the market all year round. The income is not much, but rain or shine, she has to work hard to go. Her health is weak, she gets sick all year round, sometimes headaches, stomach aches, sometimes dizziness, low blood pressure... to the point that the nurses at the hospital know her face, as soon as they see her, they know which department she is in. Mr. Nam's family has a few acres of rice fields, growing melons and cassava to make ends meet. But in recent years, after a land dispute, plus Mrs. Luu's medical bills, the debt has gradually increased to several hundred million. Mr. Nam silently takes it all on himself, working, worrying, and enduring many rumors. The salary of a commune-level official is not worth much, so every time he thinks about the money he borrowed, he feels small, like when he was young and went on a fishing trip, hoping for a good catch without knowing what the weather will be like tomorrow.
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| Illustration: HH |
Fortunately, when he retired under the 178 regime, he received a sum of money. He used most of it to pay off his debt. With the little money left, he bought a new rice cooker, a fan for his wife, and a few other household items. That was all, but for him, it was a joy, a consolation to see that he could still do something for his family. However, life was not easier. Mrs. Luu was constantly sick, and her business was unstable. But she and her husband maintained a habit that the whole village considered "luxury". Every morning, they went to the noodle shop or pho shop at the beginning of the village. Going out for breakfast became a habit. "Cooking at home makes me feel confined inside," Mrs. Luu said. Not only breakfast. Mrs. Luu also had the habit of shopping for random things online. Sometimes she bought a cheap massage machine, and once she even bought an oven to... bake potatoes. Everything was beautiful and shiny, but it broke after a few days. Mr. Nam was very angry but looking at his wife's withered face, he could not bear to blame her.
- Whatever you buy, think of it as... tuition - he said, his voice soft as if coaxing.
That morning, when the restaurant owner brought the bowl of pho, Mrs. Luu whispered: "Let's eat at home tomorrow, okay? I see that money is getting tighter and tighter." Mr. Nam nodded slightly. His worries did not stop at food. His eldest daughter worked far away, and her income was not worth much, so she sent her back to the countryside for her grandparents to take care of. The child was healthy and well-behaved, but it also cost a lot of money. That alone was enough to keep Mr. Nam awake many nights. His pension, when he had it, was only enough for the two of them to pay for medicine. There were so many other expenses, big and small, he did not know how to manage. He looked down at his hands. Those hands, why did they always feel empty, helpless in the face of life.
One chilly December afternoon, Mr. Nam sat under the porch looking out at the fields. The fields had been harvested, leaving only dry stubble. Mrs. Luu came out of the house, holding a worn-out shirt.
- This shirt is torn, but I can mend it. I won't buy a new one, I'll save money for medicine - she said. Mr. Nam looked at his wife, her hair was much gray. Years of worry were etched on her face, but her eyes still had the gentleness of a hard-working country woman.
- You've had a hard life - he said softly. She smiled: "This is my life".
They sat together, saying nothing more, just quietly listening to the sounds of the neighbor’s children playing echoing from the edge of the village. The grandchild was sleeping in the house, breathing evenly and lightly. That peaceful scene made Mr. Nam suddenly feel his heart sink. Life may be poor, but just seeing his grandchild grow up day by day, seeing Mrs. Luu still by his side, he felt that he had not really lost everything.
- I've thought about it - Mrs. Luu said - I'll give up the habit of shopping online. I'll buy what I need at the market, and what I don't need, I won't. We're old, we have to be frugal. He nodded: "Yes, let's fix it together. Try to live well to take care of the baby. Wait until my daughter is stable and then take her home. Then we can be together again, without any worries."
Mr. Nam looked towards the sunset that was gradually falling. The sky was red like a fire at the end of the day, warm but also full of uncertainty. The old age of the grandparents was not a peaceful and quiet time as many people dream of, but a journey of struggling amidst nameless worries. But in those uncertainties, there still flashed the light of companionship, of husband and wife love, of children's babbling and hope for tomorrow. It was completely dark. The grandchild woke up, ran out to hold the grandparents' hands. The yellow light from the small house seemed to illuminate a simple thing: No matter how difficult life is, as long as there is love, one can overcome all the vicissitudes.
Tran Tuyen
Source: https://baoquangtri.vn/van-hoa/202511/truyen-ngan-bong-chieu-tren-mai-hien-cu-25553bb/
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