It is no longer a moan of expressing sorrow for assigning new words, no longer a denunciation of fear that others will say I won’t remember, ungrateful and careless. Mom, did I really miss you? Did I read some things written by my sister yesterday and also about your death? I don’t know if it was influenced by this. I don’t think so. Maybe I have fallen into the deep and remote sound of empty valley in the imperceptible influence.!     Eight years have passed since you died. It seems that I am really an unqualified daughter, or you are an unqualified mother. You seldom come to see me in my dreams, or I can’t remember. Although this is the case, I try my best to remember you. I really haven’t studied why some people don’t remember what they have in their dreams after waking up. I just can’t remember, but I try my best to remember about you.!     Did I miss you enough? So I always forget you, do you think I am not filial enough? So don’t come to see me, sister. I don’t know whose spell it is? And I am the cursed man? Is this really the case?     It’s just a barren piece of land that I’m not familiar with. It’s spacious and there’s still a lot of arable land. Did I borrow objects from another place??     It’s very spacious, including our family’s. Dad and Fourth Uncle are digging up the soil and don’t know what to do.?     I went to pick the fruit. Here, a place I couldn’t name, they were still digging and turning. I saw a hand with only one palm and a hand that might be the one driving the crane to the west, but it still moved. I was afraid and I jumped back to one side..     My father and uncle both laughed. I don’t know why they laughed, just because of this hand?     I don’t know, I really don’t know. I just reveal something called desolation and sadness in my heart. I don’t know what it is, but I know it is so clear!     Dad explained: That’s your mother’s hand. Your mother left it when she died. She was cut off here.     It is no longer in conformity with what I remember. My mother died of illness. How could such a hand be here??     I don’t know, I really don’t know . Ah, when my sight was blurred, the hand was no longer the place where it had been buried, and it had already come out. I walked past, I squatted down without doubt, without doubt, I know this is my mother’s.     I believe it’s mother’s. I cried and wailed. When I thought I had lost such a ability, it broke out only for you, mother, and really only for you.!     I touched the hand, the hand of my mother. I know this is the hand of my mother. Anyway, that’s the hand of my mother.. It will move or be warm. I touched it and then touched its finger. I don’t know why it is still warm here for so many years. I believe this is the temperature my mother gave me. I believe it.     There is no fear, if it is someone else’s, I think I will stay away from him, but it is mother’s, mother’s, and my dearest person’s!     Shaking out his left hand and touching – mother’s hand, it should be said that he touched each other, and then mother’s hand was combined with my left hand. The feeling of rejection before was so clear, it seems that there is still, really still, mother, you are mine and I am yours.. You are me, I am you, can I understand this?     I’m still feeling the feeling in my hand. My roommates in the next bed said: Someone called to find you. I woke up. If not, how would the story develop?     Wake up after the lingering charm is still there, still so sad.     I said to the girl who asked me to answer the phone: I dreamed that my mother had listened to her several times, and the vague state of half asleep in the morning was I not clear, or she did not hear clearly?     She asked: Do you often dream of your mother?     I said: . she said: Does your mother often come to see you?     I said: once a year!     Mom, you are in my body now. My hand is yours. Your hand is mine. I will cherish it. I will use our hand to create a future that you and I expect.!