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When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary.
She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an Angel’s.
SHANGHAI, China — In a country of 1.3 billion people, it’s not always easy to meet Mr. That’s why on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, parents congregate in a corner of People’s Park, a sanctuary of palm trees, ponds and winding paths in the heart of this busy Chinese city.
My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded. A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack.
During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation — nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her.
That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded.
“Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.” That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.
This phenomenon developed organically more than a decade ago in Shanghai and has since sprung up in other parts of China, said Zhen Trudy Wang, a former Caijing magazine reporter in Shanghai who now works for a public relations firm.
People were meeting at the park anyway to practice dancing, badminton and martial arts. “Matchmaking” is actually a more accurate term than “market,” which implies that money is exchanging hands, noted Wang.
“I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,” she said, as she got into the car.
“They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.” We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered. Another similar glurge piece concludes with the literary device of having the sympathetic figure who died leave a special gift for the other character in the story, with said item teaching a lesson in love.
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