When I was five years old, I also loved to cuddle up next to the old lady. The old lady in my memory was kind, with silver hair on her hair, and she felt sorry for me. We were sitting in the attic in the morning sun, and she was leaning on a wicker chair, elegantly like a lady, gently flipping through a damaged old photo album, and the photos were also yellowed.
When the photo slipped from the album, I caught it and obediently raised the photo in my hand: "Madam, here you go."
My wife took the photo with her withered and yellow hands, suddenly picked me up, pointed at the person in the photo and told me: "Xin'er, that's my grandma Xin Lan."
I looked at the photo. There were three people on it, and the one sitting there was a woman. Although the photo was black and white and blurry, I could still see that the woman was very delicate, wearing a cheongsam and wearing the braid of a woman. The baby in her arms was only a little big, but she was smiling happily. The man standing behind the woman was wearing a long gown and had long braids from the late Qing Dynasty. He looked heroic, but his eyes were full of love and he looked at the woman. Is he also a child?
"My grandma is such a delicate and beautiful woman!" The wife sighed: "It's a pity that grandpa died young..." She put me down gently and said to herself, "What do you know, kid?"
I don't understand anything, but I remember Xin Lan for some reason.