blog 9: Visit a grave to cherish the memory of the dead

I just want to say-death is not a pathetic thing.
 Every year on the day before the New Year’s Day, my father, my uncles and I would visit some graves of elders in family. Some graves are far away from my home. Hence, we need to get up early so that we can not miss our breakfast. By the way, we should visit all the graves before breakfast. It is a rule which everyone knows and obeys.
 I cannot remember which year it was. It was rather cold then. Every year at that time the temperature is rather low. All of us were in feather dresses and gloves. After about fifteen minutes’ ride, we arrived at our destination. Our eyebrows and hair were covered with white frost. Those graves located on a barrow which swelled outwards from the surface. It was because the soil of the other part of this land had been taken away to play the role of some house’s foundation. Beside the graves was a river. It was frozen then. I tried to slide on it, but my father called me back soon. I surely didn’t have enough fun there. Well, now, I dare not do that anymore. I have watched the first episode of The Ten Commandments in which a little boy drowned in a frozen river. Some jujube trees surrounded the graves, which was convenient for us to hang our firecrackers.
 We set off our firework, burned some paper made to resemble money and burned as an offering to the dead and kowtowed to the graves one by one. After all, we were going to leave. Right then, a fat man appeared in front of us. He had fur clothing and glasses on, with a basket of firework and ghost money in his hand. Apparently, he had the same aim as us. But he was so well-dressed that I doubted whether he was there enjoying some kind of scenes. Of course he was not enjoying. Who would wander alone among some no-leaves trees, stepping on bloody hard earth and dead wood and leaves with the bloody low temperature under zero? In addition, he did look a little fidget.
 Now, he asked. I cannot remember every word of his question. It was probably about the graves which belonged to some typical family. He said that they had been there the year before. Well, now, he found himself not able to find them.
 “Do you know what happened to them?”
 “No!” we were quite sure about it, “we don’t know anything about it.”
 To be honest, we felt quite delighted on our way back. We were all the time talking about that fat guy, who had lost his root.