年輕的時候，我們總覺得有一輩子可以揮霍，因為「意外」這個程咬金，還沒來突襲我們。
申跟他爸爸一樣是個很幽默風趣的人，雖然他的笑點偶爾帶著台式剾洗，但他還算是一個易於親近的男生，不是渾身帶刺的那一類。
我是在來到南非上的第二所高中結識他的，學校裡有一小群台灣人會在下課時聚在一起，我和他們團聚的原因只是因為當時乍到南非一年多，英語語言能力還不強，無法和當地同學深交。
和申的緣份不深，我們在高中的最後兩年當同校同學，雖然同年卻從沒在哪一堂課同班過。
曾經邀請他和其他同學來過我家一回，申一踏進我家客廳就看到牆上掛著一幅我國小時寫的書法作品。
「這是妳寫的?」他問。
「是呀...」我心虛的回答，因為好久沒提筆練字了。
「等妳死後這幅書法留給我!」
「什麼?」他無厘頭的一句話讓我一頭霧水。
「藝術家不是都死後才出名? 所以妳死後這幅書法留給我。」
臨死前還要惦記著把他記在遺囑上? 我無言了。
更讓人無言的是多年後，我以為我們各自忙著往不同的人生道路前進，突然聽聞他車禍過世的消息。我還未把那幅字的未來立在遺囑上，怎麼他就走了?
沒有參與一個人的出世，自然沒有資格批註一個人怎麼離世。我唯能用佛教論書稍微去理解無常:
大智度論三十曰：「經說五事不可思議：謂眾生多少，業果報...」在人世間，我們何時何地會經歷何事，都不是在我們可預料中，皆非想像力可達成。誰比誰先離開人世，又有誰能知道?
我相信輪迴，相信靈魂不滅，加上我和申沒有刻骨銘心的交情，所以幾年來雖然每每路過他家就會想起他，感傷他英年早逝，不過相信他只是結束了一段旅程，前往下一段前進了。
我不想悲傷，悲劇卻不從此停筆。又過了幾年，聽聞他妹妹也車禍過世了。我再怎麼宿命觀，也無法遏止心中生出的深深感傷。
白髮人送走兩位黑髮人的母親，在申的妹妹葬禮上哭著對友人說:「都走後，都沒了。」聽聞此語有誰忍得住淚水。
人怎能不好好珍惜身邊的一切? 怎能不好好過好一生?
跋
就在這篇文還在我草稿夾裡發酵時，我終於在多年後在家附近的華人街上遇到申的母親，她沒有把失去兩個孩子的悲傷烙印在臉上。從她身邊走過，我在心裡獻上真心的祝福，希望她平靜、安好！
💕感謝您的閱讀! 若你能感受到我字字刻劃的用心，請按「愛心」鼓勵，也歡迎「收藏」，更希望你留下隻字片語與我互動，我好喜歡在這個平台與大家交流。
When we are young,we always think we have the luxury of a life time to spare, because the unexpected, like a lurking predator, has not yet pounced upon us.
Shen, much like his father, was a person with a delightful and witty sense of humor. Although his jokes sometimes carried a touch of Taiwanese sarcasm, he remained an approachable guy, not the prickly sort.
I got to know him when I attended my second high school in South Africa. There was a small group of Taiwanese students who would gather together after classes. The reason I joined them was simply because, having been in South Africa for just over a year, my English language skills were still limited, and I couldn't form deep connections with local schoolmates.
The bond with Shen was not profound. We were in the same school during the last two years of high school, but despite being in the same grade, we were never in the same class for any subject.
I once invited him and other schoolmates to my house, and as soon as Shen stepped into my living room, he saw a calligraphy piece I had written during my elementary school years hanging on the wall.
"Did you write this?" he asked.
"Yeah..." I replied, feeling a bit guilty because it had been a long time since I practiced calligraphy.
"After you die, leave this calligraphy piece to me!"
"What?" His absurd statement left me completely puzzled.
"Don't artists become famous after they die? So, after you die, leave this calligraphy piece to me."
I have to remember to put him in my will in the last phase of life? I was speechless.
What left me even more speechless was that after many years, I thought we were both busy moving forward on different paths in life, only to suddenly hear the news of his passing in a car accident. I hadn't even considered putting the fate of that calligraphy piece in my will, and yet, he was gone.
Not having witnessed a person's birth, naturally, I have no right to pass judgment on how one departs from this world. All I can do is attempt to comprehend impermanence through the lens of Buddhist philosophy:
In the Mahaprajnaparamita Sastra, it is stated in Chapter 30: 'The sutras mention five inconceivable things: the number of sentient beings, the retribution of karma...'
In the realm of human existence, when and where we will encounter various experiences is beyond our ability to foresee; they lie outside the grasp of our imagination. Who can truly know who will depart this world before or after another?
I believe in reincarnation, in the continuity of the soul. Moreover, Shen and I didn't share a deeply profound connection. So, over the years, although I would often think of him whenever passing by his parents’ house, feeling sorrowful for his untimely departure, I also would like to believe that he has merely concluded one journey and embarked on the next.
I didn't want to feel sorrow, but tragedy persists. After a few more years, I heard the news of his sister's passing in a car accident as well. No matter how much I held onto my belief in fate, I couldn't prevent the profound sadness that arose within me.
At the funeral of Shen's sister, the mother who had to bury her two children one by one said to a friend in tears, 'They are both gone, all are gone.' Who can hold back their tears upon hearing these words?
How can one not cherish everything around them? How can one not live their life to the fullest?
Epilogue
While this piece was still pending in my draft folder, I finally encountered Shen's mother on the Chinatown street near my home after many years. There was no visible trace of the sorrow from losing two children on her face. Passing by her, I offered sincere blessings from my heart, hoping for her tranquility and well-being!
💕Thank you for reading! If you can sense the heartfelt portrayal in my words, please click the 'like' button to show your encouragement, and feel free to 'bookmark' it. I would also love to interact with you, so please leave a few words to exchange thoughts. I truly enjoy connecting with everyone on this platform."
