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去年的九月十九日,是中秋节。我还清晰地记得,我提前两周将那天的日历折个角儿,盼着回家的日期。下班后,给父母、奶奶买了份礼物,心便开始不安起来,那些欢乐好像突然有些错乱,它们马不停蹄地往我的心里钻,致使一贯沉默不语的我,三番五次地念叨回家。隔着电话,我喜欢对父母说我过得很好,然后一个人默默地想念。直到有天,我打开相册,看见我与家人的合影,才惊觉照片内精神抖擞的爷爷竟然是最后一次与我合影。而我,只能就着相片,透过模糊的泪滴凝视他的音容。卖油的爷爷,每次中秋回到家中,车里必定会带回一卷月饼,饭后我们就跟在奶奶身后,看他们拾掇方桌,摆上石榴、苹果、月饼、香炉,抬到小院中敬月
September 19 last year is the Mid-Autumn Festival. I also remember clearly that I folded the calendar of the day two weeks in advance and looked forward to the date of my return. After get off work, I gave my parents and grandmothers a gift, and my heart started to feel uneasy. The joy seemed to be suddenly a bit confused. They went nonstop to my heart, causing me to repeat my silence over and over again. Through the phone, I like to say good to my parents, and then silently miss a person. Until one day, I opened the album, saw my group photo with his family, only to find that the most energetic grandfather in the photo was the last time with me. And I, only with photos, staring through his vague teardrop of tone. Every time I return to my home in the Mid-Autumn Festival, the car will surely bring back a roll of moon cake. After the meal, we follow behind the grandmother, watching them pick up the square table and put pomegranate, apple, moon cake and censer on the small courtyard Respect month