贺友直先生去世已经有几天了,我依然无言、无眠、心痛,往事历历,宛在眼前。那天抢救结束后,相守六十载的贺师母久久握着先生的手,嘴里不断地呢喃:“多么好的一双手、多么好的一双手……”然后颤抖着,抽噎着,在先生的手背上轻轻地摩挲。我曾经无数次握过的这双手,却从来没有仔细观察过。前半辈子在社会底层闯荡的苦已经在这双手上消失,留下的只是捏管岁月的痕迹。此刻在灯光下, Mr. He Youzhi has died a few days, I still speechless, sleepless, sad, past memories, just in front. After the rescue was over, the sixty-year-old Herbalist took the gentleman’s hand for a long time and kept whispering in her mouth: “What a wonderful pair of hands, what a good pair of hands ... ” Then trembling, pumping, Gently massage in Mr. hand back. The hands I have gripped countless times have never been carefully observed. Before the rest of my life in the bottom of society, the pain of battling has disappeared in both hands, leaving only traces of years of control. At the moment in the light,