Regarding “birthdays,” in the past, apart from remembering my own, it was difficult to remember others’, although there is no logical connection between the two. Later, with continuous reflection on family and social life, I began to pay special attention to the birthdays of “close relatives” as defined by civil law and those of some important friends. However, due to the repetition and confusion of the current calendar systems, it is often challenging to unify whether that particularly significant date is based on the Gregorian or lunar calendar, depending on the place or group of people.

Since birthdays can be based on either the lunar or Gregorian calendar, and it is well known that the lunar calendar is generally about a month earlier than the Gregorian, and given that the lunar calendar is rarely used in years of schooling, missing some important dates has inevitably happened.

It was the day after New Year’s Day last year, no different from any usual holiday, following the same routine of waking up, reading, eating, playing games, and sleeping. I couldn’t remember that the second day of 2010 was actually my father’s lunar birthday. It’s imaginable that I had paid special attention to this date in 2009, but unfortunately, I couldn’t effectively connect the general dates of the Gregorian calendar with the special dates of the lunar calendar, so I forgot. In fact, such things happen many times a year, like the “New Year.” It’s certain that most of us repeatedly check the calendar before the New Year because the Gregorian date of the New Year is so ordinary, making it extremely difficult to match with the important date of the first day of the lunar new year.

As mentioned earlier, difficulty in remembering is one thing, and whether one can remember is another; there is no necessary logical connection between the two. If one pays more attention to these dates, makes notes or reminders, or even thinks about the date every day, it’s foreseeable that forgetting, and thus regret, is unlikely.

I have been pondering what kind of day a “birthday” really is. Simply recording the birth obviously doesn’t hold much practical significance. Excluding the ignorant childhood, most people’s lives consist of only ten to twenty thousand days. Among these, it’s impossible to expect everyone to value themselves every day, but there are a few dozen days, only a few dozen in a lifetime, that are exclusively personal. Every informed person has the obligation to pay attention and notice that there is such a person’s existence. This mutual obligation of attention and notice constitutes a fundamental aspect of social and interpersonal relationships. Only on these few dozen days do most people truly feel the value of their existence in the world—the concern of others. Even a greeting or a blessing is an affirmation of personal existence and respect for personal life.

“The existence of a person is the premise for all actions,” the widespread dissemination of this idealistic proposition is one of the main signs of the beginning of a civilized society. As the concept of human rights becomes increasingly ingrained, the “sense of existence” is a new and beneficial exploration and pursuit of one’s own value of existence. Based on different social relationships, the content of the sense of existence varies significantly. Generally, as social relationships move from intimacy to estrangement, the need for a sense of existence gradually decreases; at the same time, the willingness of the counterpart to provide a sense of recognition also tends to decrease. The key question is whether this gradual decrease means it can equal zero.

After the extreme incident a few days ago where a 2-year-old girl was hit by a car and 18 passersby indifferently walked by without helping, criticism of internal moral standards seems to have no strength left. The incident occurred in Dali Town, where our school was located during our first and second years of university. All classmates were deeply distressed, beating their chests and stamping their feet, yet helpless. The sense of existence and recognition, fundamental value judgments developed over hundreds of years in the concept of human rights, are indescribable in the face of domestic realities.

My father’s last birthday was mistakenly forgotten by me, but afterwards, he still spoke to me in a gentle tone, saying, “I won’t blame you,” and “I understand (your reasons), it’s nothing.” At the time, I didn’t take it too seriously, overly condemning myself, and placed the hope of correction on the next year. Who knew, my father ultimately didn’t make it to the next birthday and passed away, on this very day last year.

After the judicial exam, the whole class organized a graduation trip, and on the way back, I stopped by home. At that time, my father’s complexion was dark, but he was still talking and laughing, though everyone knew his condition was very serious, just unwilling to believe this contradictory fact before their eyes. The spread of the virus causing organ failure would lead to immense pain inside the body, but since it was the liver that was damaged, although painkillers could temporarily alleviate the pain, they would accelerate the spread of the virus. Therefore, my father never took painkillers in the later stages of his life. Ah! As a father, he had done his utmost; as a son, I did nothing.

On this day last year, a day never to be forgotten yet one I never wish to recall, my grandparents were still alive, enduring the event of the elderly seeing off the young, happening to themselves, filled with immense sorrow, so much so that many bitter things could only be endured silently, to be told in the future.