North Family Letters

Returning to Dust: Seasonal Sacrifices and Joint Burial (Final Chapter)

The final step of the joint burial was completed by the eldest sister and her six sisters.

First, they used a wooden rake to carefully smooth the newly turned yellow soil, removing every grain of sand to ensure the tomb mound was round and neat, without any abrupt changes. Then, the six of them worked together to firmly place the tombstone engraved with their parents' names in the center. The offering table in front of the tombstone had already been wiped three times with a damp cloth. The father's favorite cigarette, the mother's usual chrysanthemum tea, and the bowl of thick millet porridge were all arranged according to their preferences in life, and even the spacing between the items was measured and measured according to how the dining table had looked over the years.

The eldest sister carefully took out an old family photo, rolled up for decades, from the bottom of her cloth bag. The edges of the photo were worn and frayed by time, the image yellowed but still clear—a young mother, wearing a blue cotton shirt, leaned gently against her father, her eyes gentle. Her father, in a crisp military uniform, the red stars on his epaulets faded but still bright. The eldest sister, an infant in her arms, held her father's hand, her eyes crinkling with laughter. This photo was her mother's most precious memory, and the only family portrait her father brought back from the Vietnam War.

She gently pressed the photo onto the bluestone in front of the tombstone, and then leaned the old palm-leaf fan with embroidered daisies, which her second sister Xiahe had brought, against the photo. The fan was brought back by her father from Yunnan. Although the daisies on the fan surface had faded, the stitches were still neat. When her mother returned from searching for her father, she used this fan to mend his military uniform, and also fanned away the dust and longing of the past years.

Third Sister Qiuling squatted down and added half a bowl of millet porridge to the tombstone. The steam rose gently, mingling with the delicate fragrance of chrysanthemum tea, spreading in the spring breeze. "Dad, Mom, you two are together now. The porridge is cooked to your preferred consistency, just like it was when we were little at home." Her voice was soft as her fingertips traced her mother's name on the tombstone. She remembered how her mother had led them on their search for their father, eating only pickled vegetables and cornbread along the way, always saving the hot porridge for them. Now, they could finally enjoy a bowl of hot porridge in peace.

Fourth Sister Dongxue took out a strip of white cloth from her pocket and carefully wrapped it around the stone pillars on either side of the tombstone. She then straightened the two newly planted pine and cypress trees on the grave. These two trees were planted by her father himself when he returned to his hometown after retiring from the army. Now, they are lush and verdant, becoming an evergreen feature in the old house's courtyard. She broke off a branch and gently inserted it on either side of the tombstone. "Dad, Mom, we'll guard your home. These trees will accompany you, evergreen through all seasons, just like the bond between our family, which will never break."

The youngest, Xiaoman and Xiaoya, gently sprinkled a handful of soil they had brought from the old house's yard onto the grave. "Dad, Mom, this is soil from home, it smells of sunflowers and roses, smell it," Xiaoya said softly, yet with a firm tone. Xiaoman clutched a candy her father had bought for them in her pocket, unwrapped one, and placed it next to the photograph. "This is the sweet treat you loved to buy for us. Now you can taste it, it's like we're still here with you."

The six sisters stepped forward one by one and bowed deeply three times to the tombstone. There were no loud sobs, only the longing suppressed for many years slowly settling down at this moment. The eldest sister raised her hand to wipe the corner of her eye, looking at the names of her parents standing side by side, looking at the old photo of them nestled together, her voice steady and gentle: "Dad, Mom, you've worked so hard all these years. You've toiled for the family in this life, may you enjoy a good life in the next, together with each other, and never have to worry about us again."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sweet scent of grass and wood, like a gentle response from their parents. They stood before the grave for a long time, gazing at the old family photograph, recalling their mother's long journey to Yunnan with them, their father's arduous years guarding the border, and the profound love and devotion their parents had shown throughout their lives. All the longing hidden in the flames of war, the steadfastness honed on the journey, and the warmth found in the everyday moments of life, finally found its perfect ending in this mound of earth, this tombstone, and this old photograph.

The joint burial was completed, and the parents returned to the earth. Finally, they were no longer separated, but could be together in another world. The six sisters, holding each other's hands, gazed at their new shared grave, their hearts filled with peace and warmth. They knew that their parents' love had never faded, but had transformed into the smoke rising from the old house, the evergreen pines, and the unbreakable bond between the six sisters, accompanying them through the years to come, welcoming each new dawn, and ensuring a lifetime of peace.

From then on, every Qingming Festival and the anniversary of their parents' death, the six sisters would bring new porridge, new tea, and that old family photo to the grave, talking about family matters and sisterly affection, as if their parents had never left. This joint burial grave would ultimately become the family's warmest final resting place, holding half a lifetime of longing and guarding eternal reunion. Returning to Dust: Seasonal Ritual and Joint Burial (Final Chapter)

The six sisters handled the burial rituals meticulously and appropriately, with every detail reflecting their lifelong longing.

This cemetery is built against the mountainside, surrounded by densely packed graves of soldiers. Rows of tombstones stand neatly, solemn and dignified, their sound carried with it the uprightness and tranquility of soldiers as the wind rustles through the trees. My parents' joint grave lies here, next to a host of heroes and veterans who defended our country. My father, a veteran of the Vietnam War, rests here, returning to the ranks of his comrades, and will never feel alone again.

The freshly turned yellow earth was carefully mounded into a rounded grave mound, devoid of any superfluous decoration, exuding only a sense of order and solemnity. The six sisters stood around the grave, none of them speaking, their fingertips tracing the damp soil as if touching those bygone years. The eldest sister held a dark blue coarse cloth bundle, its surface faded from starching, its edges stitched with fine lines. It was a bundle their mother had specially sewn for their father, to hold his military medals and certificates, which she had treasured for most of her life.

The process of erecting the tombstone had already been completed. The names of the parents were closely intertwined on the tombstone, with a line of small characters specially engraved next to it: "Veteran of the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Vietnam, Resting in Peace." On the bluestone slab in front of the tombstone was the yellowed family photo. Beside it was the daisy-embroidered palm-leaf fan that the second sister had brought, which had accompanied their father for half his life. The soft and sticky millet porridge cooked by the third sister was steaming gently. The fourth sister had just pulled the weeds off the grave mound and wiped the tombstone with a clean cloth until it shone. Xiaoman and Xiaoya gently placed the milk candy and soil from their hometown that they had brought in front of the tombstone. Everything was arranged according to the most perfect image in their hearts.

Not far from this military cemetery is a veterans' museum, its white walls and gray tiles exuding a solemn and grand atmosphere. The museum displays only military-related items: faded uniforms, worn helmets, canteens used during marches, yellowed letters and certificates of merit—each exhibit holding a piece of military life and a deep sense of patriotism. The six sisters stood before the grave, able to see the museum's outline from afar; it was the source of their father's life's glory and the place he cherished most.

As the joint burial ceremony drew to a close, the eldest sister slowly knelt down, gently placed the bundle in front of her parents' tombstones, bowed deeply, and said in a steady yet respectful voice: "Dad, Mom, we have arranged the things you cherished all your life for you. You went to war for the country, and these certificates are your honor. They shouldn't just be kept at home; they should be seen by more people so that they can remember that era and the responsibility of us soldiers."

After saying this, the eldest sister stood up, carrying the heavy, coarse cloth bundle, and led her five younger sisters slowly towards the nearby military museum. The museum staff were already waiting there, and knowing their purpose, they were deeply moved. The eldest sister carefully opened the bundle. Inside were her father's certificates of merit, war commemorative certificates, and a certificate of honor for his border postings, all from his participation in the Vietnam War. The paper was yellowed and brittle, but the handwriting remained clear. Each certificate bore her father's name, a testament to his past struggles on the Yunnan border and in the Vietnam War, and to his unwavering commitment to his country, even at the cost of his family.

"Comrade, these are certificates left by my father from his time fighting in the Vietnam War. They represent his life's glory. My sisters and I have decided to donate them to the museum so that his military memories can remain here, alongside other military personnel's belongings, so that future generations can remember this great patriotism." The eldest sister solemnly handed the certificates to the staff member, her eyes slightly red. "My father rests in peace in the nearby military cemetery, alongside his comrades. These certificates remaining in the museum are another form of his dedication."

The staff received the donation with both hands, carefully put it away, and paid deep respect to the six sisters. This weighty donation was not only a veteran's memento, but also a legacy of family and national memories. The display cases inside the museum were full of items left behind by soldiers like their father. His certificates were placed there, alongside medals and old uniforms, becoming a bright spot in countless years of military service, telling the story of the railway soldiers who braved artillery fire to repair roads and guard the border.

When we returned to the cemetery, the sun was high in the sky, its rays bathing the entire military cemetery and the joint grave of our parents, creating a warm and peaceful atmosphere. The six sisters stood before the tombstone once more, gazing at their parents' names and looking towards the distant museum, their hearts filled with a sense of relief and pride.

My father was a brave and resolute soldier who went to Yunnan to fight against the United States and aid Vietnam, protecting the peace of the country with his own flesh and blood. My mother was gentle yet strong, traveling thousands of miles with her daughter to find her husband, guarding their small family and waiting for his return. Now my father and his comrades-in-arms are buried here, with my mother by his side. His military glory is carefully preserved in the museum next door. His glory returns to his country, and his deep affection accompanies his wife and children. Half a lifetime of responsibility to the country and family, a lifetime of husband and wife, finally come to a perfect end at this moment.

"Dad, Mom, the certificates are all settled, don't worry. We six sisters will always remember your teachings, take good care of our home, support each other, and always remember your honor as a soldier," the eldest sister said softly. The other sisters nodded in unison, their eyes filled with determination.

A gentle breeze swept across the military cemetery, past the nearby museum, carrying the warmth of time and the solemnity of family and country. Parents have returned to dust, but the father's military glory lives on, the parents' deep affection lives on, and the bond between the six sisters lives on. From now on, their eternal rest in the cemetery and the treasures in the museum echo each other, representing both a sincere devotion to the country and a deep longing for family, accompanying them through the years to come.