Men and women in love enter into marriage because of their mutual affection, but couples in marriage often cease to appreciate each other for various reasons. If admiration during courtship is heartfelt, then appreciation within marriage requires learning. As the saying goes, there are no giants around us, which refers to losing admiration and respect due to familiarity and over-understanding. In family life, if you no longer appreciate your partner, even a harmless habitual action can make you feel annoyed, even if that action was one of the reasons that originally attracted you.
I have two stories that might explain, from a certain perspective, how important appreciation is in family life:
My grandmother, though born into a somewhat educated rural gentry family, only learned things like the "Three-Character Classic" and recognized a few words. Due to her father's death, she was betrothed at a very young age by her mother to someone in another county who was reportedly a graduate of the Whampoa Military Academy. This gentleman, despite following Sun Yat-sen in the revolution and adopting many new ideas, could not shake off the feudal remnant of taking concubines. There were already three wives in the household, yet he still wanted more, leading to my grandmother becoming the fourth wife. They had an age gap of 35 years. Among the four wives, aside from some cold violence like glaring eyes and frowning, they generally lived in peace. After having my mother, even though my grandmother was the most favored among the four wives, she could not endure this feudal and corrupt lifestyle. She took advantage of an opportunity when my grandfather took her to the provincial capital and ran away, hiding in a place where he couldn't find her. I don't know how she survived those days, but later she met a handsome young firefighter in the provincial city, they fell in love, and got married. After liberation, the firefighter returned to his hometown, and my grandmother followed him back to the countryside. Later, missing her daughter desperately, she secretly went to my real grandfather's house, took my mother away, and brought her to her side. Life in the countryside was as bitter as Huanglian (a very bitter herb). Moreover, the villagers were quite envious of the redwood copper lock chest that my grandmother had brought along with its mysterious treasures, always trying to stir up class struggle to take a peek inside. My grandmother encouraged her husband, whom I later called grandpa, the former firefighter, to move to the city. The three of them came to the city, without any support, and grandpa started carrying water to sell to people at the dock, while my grandmother knitted sweaters for others.
Perhaps it was after experiencing the luxurious life in a grand mansion that she realized the value of plain meals. My grandmother treated her impoverished husband very well, and the two respected each other like guests. Grandpa, an uneducated countryman, adored his beautiful, capable, and resourceful wife who had fallen from the sky, and obediently followed her lead. My grandmother also appreciated his simplicity and diligence. When the household registration system emerged, my grandmother realized this was a big deal and quickly found a distant relative by surname who held an official position to register their family of three in the city. She then sent my mother to school. Later, she used some connections to get my grandpa a job in a construction company, making him a proud member of the national working class. It was precisely because of my grandmother's foresight that she, my grandpa, and my mother avoided the fatal blows of the three-year natural disaster and the Cultural Revolution. Her kindness towards grandpa was such that even my mother felt jealous. I once heard my mother complain that my grandmother didn't care much about us, but was extremely good to her husband.
Not having a son was always a pain in her and grandpa's hearts, and the neighbors all knew. One early morning, when she opened the door to buy groceries, she suddenly found a small bundle at her feet in the morning light. Upon picking it up, she saw an infant less than a month old, with a piece of yellow Xuan paper about the size of a palm indicating the baby’s birth details and some words of gratitude. The couple loved this adopted son dearly, treating him as their own. Even my mother, who had long since married and had her own three children, felt a bit jealous. Because grandpa's salary wasn't low, the family of three lived comfortably. My grandmother never asked my mother for anything, but instead often bought things for us. The boy grew up under the doting care of the elderly couple. One day, he learned his true origins from the neighbors. My grandmother did not panic; she took him back to his biological parents. After recognizing them, he returned home with my grandmother. Only after her death did he start visiting his biological parents once a year.
Her adopted son, my younger uncle, was around 15 years old when my grandmother passed away suddenly. The event was completely unexpected. After dinner, she took a bath, washed her clothes, and told her husband she was a little tired and wanted to rest. She went upstairs, lay down on the bed, and her husband followed, sitting by the bedside. They were joking around when she said she felt uncomfortable in her chest, and then she was gone. At the moment it happened at her house, our family had just finished dinner, and I was happily playing the violin for my parents. Suddenly, my younger uncle burst through the door, falling to his knees: "Sister-in-law, save my mom!" My father immediately grabbed the first aid supplies and rushed over, but it was too late. Endless sorrow was left for her husband, son, and our entire family. It has been thirty years since the incident, and I still cannot understand why I didn't sense anything and was happily playing the violin at that time.
Thirty years have passed since my grandmother's death, and every Qingming Festival, grandpa and my younger uncle go to the countryside to pay respects to her. This is the only major event in their family every year, something they must do no matter what. Every time grandpa sees my mother or us, he cries when mentioning my grandmother. A woman, thirty years after her death, can still make her husband sob. I wonder how many women in this world have such fortune. She had no biological son, but the adopted son she raised regarded her husband as his real father, even making being kind to his stepfather a condition for dating. In this way, she resolved the worry of her husband's old-age care. Last year, when my sister and I returned to China, we visited grandpa, who was really old. With tears streaming down his face, he asked, "Will you visit your grandmother and pay your respects?" My sister and I assured him that we would, and he said, "I won't go, I'm too old. I'll go again next Qingming Festival."
My grandmother left behind no inheritance and spent her entire life at the bottom of society. However, she imparted priceless lessons about being a person, about how a woman can maximize control over her fate within limited living space, and about how a woman can make herself and her family happy.
Related theme articles: Analects of Confucius · Learning and Progress Chapter 2 Chemical Wastewater Daoist Sect