At the age of three, I tightly held a lollipop in my hand, believing it was the most important thing.
At the age of five, I spent a whole afternoon catching that dragonfly, and in that moment, it seemed like the most important thing.
At the age of seven, I looked at the certificate in my classmate's hand, feeling envious and a little jealous, thinking that it might be the most important thing.
At the age of nine, lying under the shade of a tree, the dappled sunlight on my face, a leisurely summer vacation was so important to me.
At the age of thirteen, I realized that the acceptance letter from a prestigious high school was important to my life.
At the age of sixteen, sitting in the classroom, a gentle breeze passing through, I stared at the ponytail of the girl in front of me and daydreamed, suddenly feeling that it would be nice to continue like this.
At the age of eighteen, I studied day and night, prayed to the gods, all for the sake of a college acceptance letter.
At the age of twenty-two, bidding farewell to campus, stepping into the so-called society, a job became the most important thing.
At the age of twenty-four, I had my wedding, looking at the guests and my bride, who was not the same girl I fell in love with at sixteen, I felt a bit regretful, but at that moment, my bride became the most important person to me.
At the age of twenty-five, I drank and chatted with friends, ignorant of the ways of the world, thinking that face was the most important thing.
At the age of twenty-six, I anxiously waited outside the delivery room, the sound of crying breaking the silence, I knew that something more important had arrived.
At the age of thirty-three, overwhelmed by mortgage and car loans, I realized that money was too important.
At the age of thirty-eight, my strong-willed father began to seek my opinion, and in that moment, I suddenly realized that he had grown old.
Also at the age of thirty-eight, my mother no longer scolded me, but instead nagged me tirelessly, with a hint of caution, and I knew that she would also grow old.
Again at the age of thirty-eight, my son no longer clung to me, he had his own life with his friends, and I knew that for the rest of his life, he would only continue to move away from me.
That year, I suddenly realized that perhaps time was the most important thing in this world.
At the age of forty, looking at the messy medical examination report, I realized that I had never considered myself important.
At the age of forty-five, I lived half my life in a daze, patting my beer belly at work, reminiscing about my youthful dreams, and never realizing how important dreams were.
At the age of fifty, watching my son and a decent girl enter the realm of marriage, I squinted at my son on the stage, not knowing if the bride was the same girl he fell in love with at sixteen. But I still felt that my son's happiness was more important than my own.
At the age of fifty-five, I followed my grandson anxiously, afraid that he would fall, and in that moment, I never had high hopes for my grandson, his safety and happiness were the most important things.
At the age of sixty, I buried my parents together, getting older, many things became more clear to me, I didn't shed tears, I just felt that my father's scolding and my mother's nagging were extremely important at that moment.
At the age of seventy, my wife finally left before me, my son and daughter-in-law had successful careers, and my grandson was studying at a university in another city. I could only wander aimlessly on the streets, feeling that my wife was much more important than the old lady doing square dancing in the square.
At the age of seventy-five, in the hospital, when the doctor asked me to leave and stayed alone with my son, I realized that time was running out. So I took the opportunity to call my grandson, I wanted to tell him, if you fell in love with a girl at the age of sixteen, hold on tight, just like holding onto the lollipop at the age of three. After thinking about it, I felt a bit disrespectful to my old age, and after the call was connected, I only said, "Grandpa misses you, come visit me when you have time." The doctor reassured me that there was no big problem, and I smiled and told the doctor that there were no major problems in life, actually just living through the days was the most important thing.
At the age of seventy-six, my grandson came to visit me, and it felt a bit awkward for him to see me in such a weak state. My son and daughter-in-law stood by the bed, crying silently. I didn't have the energy to think about what was most important anymore, I just wanted to simplify the funeral arrangements. My son and daughter-in-law were not young anymore, their bodies couldn't handle it, and my grandson had just started working and couldn't take leave easily, I didn't want him to leave a bad impression on his boss.
Just as I was thinking, a gust of wind blew from somewhere, blurring my vision. When I opened my eyes, my parents were holding hands, with the familiar smiles on their faces. They were young again, opening their arms to signal me to hug them. I missed them so much, so without hesitation, I jumped out of bed and ran towards them. As I ran, I turned into a sixty-year-old, a fifty-year-old, a forty-year-old, a thirty-year-old, until I became a three-year-old. They could finally hold me again, I nodded at them, and they nodded back, taking me with them as they turned to leave. I glanced back at my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, who were holding the seventy-six-year-old me, crying loudly. Although I felt reluctant, it didn't matter, I knew they would still be able to live well.
So, what is most important? Everything is important, but not absolutely necessary.
Because what you once thought was most important will inevitably be lost one day. Regret is always a normal part of life.