At 3 years old, I tightly held onto the lollipop in my hand, preventing my older brother from taking it away. Back then, I believed that the lollipop was the most important thing to me.
At 5 years old, I spent the entire afternoon catching a butterfly. At that moment, that butterfly became the most important thing to me.
At 7 years old, my deskmate excelled and was rewarded with a small red flower by the teacher. I looked at that flower with envy and a hint of jealousy, thinking that perhaps it was the most important thing to me.
At 9 years old, I lay back under the shade of a tree. The gentle breeze blew through my hair, and the dappled sunlight lightly kissed my face. At that time, a leisurely summer vacation was so important to me.
At 13 years old, I participated in a football match. Watching the score being behind, I felt that scoring a goal was the most important thing for me.
At 16 years old, I sat in the classroom, staring at the hair of the beautiful girl in the front row, feeling my heart race. At that moment, I had something I wanted to pursue.
At 18 years old, I prepared day and night, solely aiming to get into my dream university. During that time, an offer was the most important thing to me.
At 22 years old, I left college. Finding a job became the most important thing once again.
At 25 years old, I got married. The bride was not the same girl from when I was sixteen. Although there was a hint of regret, I love my current wife deeply, and she has become one of the most important people to me.
At 27 years old, our child was born. Listening to the cry of the baby, paternal love surged from within me, and I made the decision to dedicate my life to protecting this little angel.
At 30, the burden of rent, living expenses, and loans weighed heavily on me, and I had never desired money so intensely before.
At 40, my father, who had always doted on me, asked me to help him with some heavy tasks. At that moment, I suddenly realized that he had indeed grown old.
At 41, my mother fell ill and needed to undergo surgery. For the first time, I began to fear the possibility of losing my parents.
At 42, I realized that my child hadn’t asked me to play with him for a long time. I realized that he was developing his own interests and making friends, entering a phase of independence in his life.
At 45, as I looked at the medical examination report with various abnormal indicators, I realized that health is the most important thing.
At 60, I laid my parents to rest together. During the funeral, I didn’t shed a tear. However, when I returned home and looked at the empty bedroom, tears finally streamed down my face.
At 75, in the hospital, the doctor informed me that I didn’t have much time left. My emotions didn’t fluctuate much, as I had anticipated this day for a while.
I made a phone call to my grandson, wanting to tell him that if he ever falls in love with a girl at 16, he should hold onto her tightly, just like how he held onto the lollipop when he was three years old.
A gust of wind blew out of nowhere and put sand in my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, opened them, and saw my parents holding hands, with the most familiar smiles on their faces, that’s what they looked like when they were young. They opened their arms to beckon me to hug them, I miss them so much, so I jumped out of bed without hesitation, and ran towards them. During the running, I became 60 years old, 50 years old, 40 years old, and 30 years old, until three-year-old, they were finally able to hug me again, I nodded to them, and they also nodded with a smile, turned around, and left with me.
I looked back at my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. They hugged the 75-year-old me and cried loudly. Although they were reluctant, it didn’t matter. I knew they could still live a good life.
So, what are the most important things in life? Everything is important, but it is not necessary.
Because what you once thought was the most important, there will always be a day when you lose it. Regrets are always a part of life.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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