Encounter in chicago

  That day, I went to a concert at the Chicago Symphony Center and caught the bus at the Hyde Park stop. Hurry up and hurry up, still watching the door slam shut, and a white smoke billows out from the butt of the car. I had to wait for the next one, somewhat annoyed. At this moment, an old lady with silver hair, tall and straight, and spirited, walked slowly and leisurely. I didn’t expect that it was a prelude that God specially performed for me before the concert performance. I should be glad I didn’t catch the car, otherwise I’d miss out on this old lady.
  The old lady and I were the only people waiting for the bus. I had nothing to do, so I chatted with the old lady. It happened that the old lady is also a talkative person, and we happened to pass the long waiting time together. The old lady is German and previously worked in Estonia with her husband. In 1952, she and her husband came to the United States. Her husband worked in biology, became a professor at the University of Chicago, and later became the head of the department. Since then, the old lady has taken root and has been living in Chicago, and has never moved her nest.
  As I listened, I secretly calculated: How old must the old lady be? It’s been 58 years since she arrived in Chicago, and with time spent working in Estonia, she’s at least in her 80s. But look at the old lady, where is it like? Although I don’t usually ask women’s ages, the question in my heart still makes me unable to ask. The old lady’s answer surprised me – God, she is 90 years old!
  Seeing my surprise, she even said “I was born in 1920”, trying to prove that she was absolutely right. I hurriedly said: “I didn’t expect your body to be so well maintained.” She smiled and waved her hand and said, “It’s not because of the good maintenance, but the result of listening to concerts often.”
  It turned out that we were the same people, and we all went to the Chicago Symphony. The Haydn Cello Concert of the Troupe. All of a sudden, a feeling of “the same people who love music from all over the world, why did they meet each other?”, I kept thinking: There are still several 90-year-old ladies in this world who can have such interest and have such a body. Tough, would take the bus all the way to a concert? I dare not say that it is unique, and it is really rare.
  The car has not come for a long time, so we have more opportunities to talk. I learned from the conversation that the biggest hobby of the old lady in her life is music. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra has been her friend for more than half a century. Several conductors have changed like a revolving lantern, but she has been consistent with the orchestra like a sunflower. Every year, she chooses a few of her favorite concerts from the orchestra’s performances and listens to them by bus. It is her insistence over the years. Hearing this, I am in awe of the old lady. No matter what, being able to persist for such a long time is not an easy thing. It has been flowing in the long river of time until now, even if you can’t wear a string of pearls, you can wear your own precious memories. Especially at the age of the old lady, it is a huge wealth to be able to have memories of her own.
  However, the old lady also has her own regrets, that is, her husband is busy with work and has never attended a concert with her in her life. Now, her husband has already left before her, and she still insists on going to the concert alone. She told me that although her husband could not accompany her to the concert, he was always very happy that she went to the concert. Every time she came home from the concert, her husband would listen to her talk about the concert and share the wonderful music with her in this way, which became her most unforgettable time. Originally, my husband had promised to accompany her to a concert, and the tickets were booked in advance. Unexpectedly, before the concert, my husband was admitted to the hospital and never got up again.
  ”It’s from Mozart.” The old lady didn’t tell me what year it was, but only told me that I listened to Mozart’s music that year. There was no special sadness in her voice, and her eyes, which were covered with walnut skin-like wrinkles, shone brightly – there may be more memories and nostalgia in there. I guess that in the days without a husband, going to concerts is not only a habit of the old lady, but also a way for her to keep in touch with her husband.
  The car came, I wanted to help her, but she got into the car very tough. This night’s concert, because of the chance encounter with the old lady, was like adding a strange orchestration to the score, which gave Haydn’s cello music a different flavor. I feel that the deep sound of the cello is like an old man who has experienced vicissitudes but still maintains a certain feeling.

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