In Memory of My Nanny on the Mid-Autumn Festival 中秋爱人

Every year when Mid-Autumn Festival comes, I always think of my nanny. She appears in the image of my mind that her figure dims in the full moon's glow. At that moment, I realize how I miss her.

There was a pomegranate tree in my nanny's house. It had been planted while she was still nursing me. When the tree was transplanted from outside, it was just as high as me -- about nanny's knee's height. How time flies. The tick goes round by round, never stop.

Now, I had grown a head taller than nanny. And the pomegranate tree, which points toward the sky, can hold the two of us together.

In the shade of the pomegranate tree, time rushes by as usual. Can it tell who is gaining more grey hairs and who is wandering further and further? I don't know.

In those years, when the Mid-Autumn Festival comes, nanny will send a basket of big and ripe pomegranates to my house. The pomegranate seeds bumps jitter out, and I would clutch them all in my hand.

At the Mid-autumn night, my family sit around the table and taste these pomegranates, which are round, lovely, smooth and gratifying. The onyx-like glowing pomegranate seeds shine like just being cut from the geological layer.

I treasure them too much to eat away. My mom says she would give away instead of wasting them. She begins to pick them up into a bag.

I frown and try to hold her back. "We don't have many. Can we keep some?" Sadness and unwillingness rises up. Even so, half of the basket of pomegranates had gone. So I cherish the rest of the pomegranates even more. They are not just pomegranates, but my nanny's precious ones which weight more in my heart and should not belong to other people.

On Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone eats moon cake. I always prefer sweet and refreshing pomegranate seeds, rather than the greasy moon cakes. Sucking the seeds with taste of it's skin, I feel the essence of happiness.

I told my nanny that she is the moon and I miss her so much.

My nanny joked "Don't forget me. You won't keep silent while seeing me on the street, will you?"

I pretend to be upset. Meanwhile my heart shed tears quietly. "You are the last one I will forget, Nanny" I say to myself.

As I grow up, chances to go back to the country and see my nanny are rare. Mid-Autumn Festival is coming, I want to buy some pomegranates. But I come back disappointedly -- none of the stores sell pomegranates because other fruits are more profitable. Nanny stops sending pomegranates either. I heard that the tree had been cut when the family was moving out.

Last year's holiday, I went to see the place where the former pomegranate tree myself. It was sealed with cement. With the renovation, my nanny's old house had been pulled down not only from the real world but also from my memory. Nanny was busy taking care of her little grandson. We didn't even have the chance to sit down for a while and chat a little bit.

That is life, I guess. Everything changes. And people change. You can't compete with time. It's beyond our ability. The only thing you can do is cherish the moment now.

Mid-Autumn Festival is coming again. I'd like to buy some pomegranates from the supermarket, as I did last year. But they never taste as good as my nanny's pomegranates. I wonder if the reason could be the container -- nanny's bamboo basket was better than plastic bags. This year, I'd like to call nanny before hand and ask her what kind of pomegranates are the best.

I must tell her that, the pomegranates she planted in the past are the best of best.

Original post written by @berlin1997: 中秋爱人 中文区“月旦评”中秋征文活动
Translator: @kidult00

每逢快要中秋，我的记忆里总要亮起一个人——我的养娘。她的背影里，有圆月时的光晕。久经岁月穿凿的背影，朦朦胧胧，且让人心生挂念。

我养娘家里有棵石榴树，那是我还在她身边时就种下来的。刚从别人家移栽过来的时候，和我一样高，刚好没过养娘的膝盖。时间就那么轻快，时钟脱了僵的前行。

到如今，我已高出养娘一头有余，而那棵石榴树，撑天高的，可以把我们两个人牢牢笼住。

石榴树的怀抱下，再没有岁月可以侵蚀，哪一个人衰败的容颜，哪一个人渐行渐远的旅程。

那些年头，至中秋了，养娘家里便托人带了一篓崩开的大石榴送到我家。崩开了口子，石榴籽儿颠簸中抖了出来，我一个不落的，全部攥在手心里。

中秋夜里，绕在桌子旁，细细品赏这些大石榴，圆石榴，可爱的石榴，光滑的石榴，喜人的石榴。石榴籽儿通红，红玛瑙一样的晶亮，棱角分明，像是刚从地质层里面切开似的。

我妈见我不吃，说浪费了可惜，装了袋子就要送人。

我跟在后头拧着眉头，“少送点，少送点，这石榴就没几个”心里疼，肚里疼。石榴还是送走了一大半篓。剩下的石榴，就更让我金贵了。眼里看着不过是个石榴，心里却总能觉得它们多了一重分量——是养娘留给我的石榴，这石榴，别人是不能吃的。

中秋节家家吃月饼，我把月饼搁得远远的，嫌它油腻腻的，不比石榴籽儿，吃着清爽甘甜，吮吸着籽儿连带着皮儿的味儿，都觉得是幸福踏实的感觉。

我跟我养娘说，你就是那月亮，我会想你。

我养娘没文化，打趣儿说，以后街上看见我，别不吭声，把我给忘了。

我假意生气，转过身仰头吞泪，怎么会呢，忘了谁也不会忘了你。

后来，年龄越来越大了，就再没有什么机会去乡下，去见我养娘。中秋节到了，上街买石榴。奈何石榴的价值较苹果梨这些常有水果低，可大街的找不到一家卖石榴的。养娘家里也不再寄石榴了，听说，是新房拆迁，石榴树碍事儿，砍了。

去年放假，我亲自去看了，以前种石榴树的地方，水泥地给封了。养娘家里翻新，从前记忆里的旧房子，老建筑，也都拆的拆，毁坏的毁坏。养娘也忙了起来，照顾着自己的小孙子，没有空和我坐下来说会儿话。

也就是了，物非情非人亦非，很多很多，都已经改变，时间的力量，非人力挽留。且行且珍惜。

中秋节又快到了，我想着去超市买些石榴，去年也买了，终究也没买到从前养娘送的石榴的那个味儿，可能是装在塑料袋里的缘故吧，不再是农村的那种竹篓子装。今年，我想先打个电话给养娘，问问她什么样的石榴最好吃。

我得亲口给她说，从前你种的石榴最好吃。

原文：@berlin1997 中秋爱人 中文区“月旦评”中秋征文活动)
翻译：@kidult00