Buendía
Caption: Buendía is the name of a family in Gabriel García Márquez’s famous novel One Hundred Years of Solitude. Every member of this family lives in their own world, caring only about the things that matter to them.
A former colleague shared photos of her kid on WeChat Moments today. For someone around 30, this is a common occurrence. I imagine that as we grow old, our classmates’ Moments feeds will gradually and permanently stop updating — and that too will be a common occurrence. As long as we live in this world, none of us can escape birth, and none of us can avoid death.
My own child was also born this year — a lovely little daughter. Sometimes I get annoyed with her too. I hope she’s always happy, always giggling at me foolishly. But the moment things don’t go her way, she bursts into tears, expressing her demands at maximum volume: hungry, sleepy, bored, wants daddy to hold her… But how could I possibly tell which one it is? I tried a hundred different approaches and none of them satisfied her. Why is she crying? I was helpless! I had to ask my mom to feed her some milk, letting the child drift into a sleep induced by a blood sugar spike.
Last weekend I dropped her and her mother off at my mother-in-law’s place. Colleagues at the company congratulated me on getting a break — clearly they’d all been through it. They had been sleeping with me for months, and now the bed felt empty. Late at night, in the quiet hours, I missed them terribly. How much joy had the child’s presence brought to an otherwise lifeless room!
It was precisely because the child’s noise and commotion enriched the family that I found myself reflecting with regret: during my own upbringing, I never brought my parents peace of mind. Every evening after dinner, I’d shut myself in my room to play on the computer, not saying a word, perfectly quiet. My younger brother has the same habit now. The two of us sons neither enjoy communicating with our parents. But we can’t entirely blame ourselves — our father is a taciturn man, never cracking a smile at home. Influenced by his introverted personality from childhood, our own personalities became somewhat similar. We are like the Buendía family — each living our own life, with only blood ties binding us together.
That I can reflect on this is my daughter’s good fortune! The emotional atmosphere of a family must not be allowed to affect another generation. I hope my daughter will be more outgoing. If she doesn’t come to her dad for a fuss or a play, then her dad will go to her — like a fool, happily accompanying her as she grows up.