下午，阳光透过重重污染，柔弱地照到我家。
我起身来到窗前，看一眼夕阳，心想今天的日落光泽异常动人。顺着阳光望去，发现月亮正挡住了太阳一侧，一个燃烧的红色月牙正向着远处的高楼慢慢垂下。我慌忙拿起相机，想以人类微小脆弱的高科技手段尽量记下这个壮观神奇的瞬间。
我看到楼下的街道上，行人匆匆走在寒风中；学校操场里，几个学生漫不经心地打着篮球。我于是牵强矫情地联想到了古代，每逢月蚀，路人奔走惊呼人心惶恐的场面。科学使我们变得沉稳了，还是妄大了？ 知识使我们为未知世界心存敬畏，还是自我膨胀以致于自诩为宇宙主宰？
最近生活中的一些际遇，让我对未知产生了恐惧，由此总是惶惶不能安心。他的姥爷在我们回国后几天，在他用一只手揽着我，吃力地说“Bye.”之后的几天，就没有征兆地辞世了。我只见过他几面，却觉得心中怅然若失悲伤不已。
我没有自己的姥爷，他在我很小的时候就去世了，对他的记忆是模糊和遥远的；我的爷爷也在文革期间离世，他留给我的除了许多传说，还有很多对世事的困惑和愤然。相比之下，关于这位美国姥爷的记忆，是真实、平和、温馨的。他四十几岁就因中风不能说话，近年来也不能走路了，妻子和子女照顾他五十年，每天必然穿好衬衣，西裤，系好皮带，穿好皮鞋。Tim说，他这位不能说话和自理的姥爷，教给他的最重要的，就是尊严，人面对世界的姿态，这和你是什么境遇没有关系。
Tim说，他很想姥爷，但是他知道他现在自由了。这让我想起05年冬，我送姥姥的灵柩回老家的那个清晨，看到车窗外远处的树梢上，红日静静升起的时候，心中那种奇怪的解脱，我趴在姥姥耳边，对她说：姥姥，你看到了吗，你现在自由了。她面容安详，皮肤冰凉。
生命的际遇是我们不能掌控的，它可以像日出日落一样神奇美丽，也可以像地震洪水一样离奇可怕，宇宙有一种我们不能企及的智慧和幽默。我们能做的，就是穿上黑亮的皮鞋，用尊严面对它。
我放下相机，目送半个太阳落山。它正一改平日的端庄，笑成了一弯。
The “moonset”
The afternoon sun shined through the pollution, gently and weakly reaching my living room.
I stood up and walked to the window, thinking that there was something different about today’s sunlight. Then I saw the moon blocking the sun, making it a perfect crescent-shaped burning fire. I found my camera quickly, trying to record this significant moment with insignificant man-made technology.
I looked down. On the street people were walking fast in the cold; in the school field several students were playing basketball. I then thought of the ancient time when people ran and screamed and prayed in extreme fear during an eclipse. Science made us secure, or did it just make us feel secure? I wonder if modern knowledge has given us more fear and respect for the unknown or made our confidence expand to a dangerous level.
Things that happened in my recent life have brought this heavy layer of unidentified fear and doubt and unpeacefulness, hovering over my heart for days. Tim’s grandfather passed away just a few days after we returned to China, just a few days after he held me with one arm, and said with effort, “…Bye!” I’ve only met him several times, but right now I feel this big empty hole in my heart.
I never had my own grandfather. My mom’s dad passed away when I was little, leaving me nothing but very vague memories. My dad’s dad died during Cultural Revolution; I know him through many stories told by my dad and this confused angry feeling toward that historical time. But about this granddad, this American granddad, my feelings are more normal and real. He had a stroke in his forties and barely talked since then; he didn’t walk much either in recent years. His wife and children took care of him for fifty years. Everyday, he would get up and dress up: shirt, pants, belt, shiny leather shoes. Tim told me what granddad taught him without words is dignity, one’s attitude when facing the world, which has nothing to do with your living status.
Tim said he misses him, but he knows that he’s free now. I then thought of my grandmother and the morning when I escorted her body back to her hometown. It was cold, the red sun was rising behind tree branches from afar. I felt this weird sense of release and whispered in her ear: can you see this? You are free now. Her face looked peaceful, her skin felt cold.
We can’t control things that happen in our lives. They can be as beautiful as a sunrise or as horrible as an earthquake. The universe has a sense of humor and wisdom that we cannot perceive. But what we can do is to put on our shiny leather shoes and confront them with dignity.
I put down the camera, watching the half-sun going down. Without the everyday routine look, it is grinning at me with a giant smily face.