In my mind, my father is kind. Although I have never experienced the instinctive sense of dependence, happiness, strength and security from my father to my daughter since I was a child, the unforgettable blood relationship between my father and my daughter makes me regret losing my father prematurely and for life. Missing, expecting and daydreaming about my father is not only an indispensable part of my life, but also a headache in my emotional world, especially after entering middle age. A strong yearning for my father often drives me to know my father.
In fact, "father" is a stranger in my life. I often think that I may belong to the kind of unfilial daughter who should be condemned by the world when I set foot on the long history of fathers and daughters. I can't remember my father's face, I don't know his head, I can't remember his voice, and I don't even know where his grave is. Besides, I am a staunch atheist. He lost his father at the age of two and left his hometown when he was a little older. For decades, I have struggled tenaciously in the vast sea of people with my persistence and yearning. I am filial to the elderly around me, but I don't care about the return of blood and affection. For 30 years, I never thought about going to the grave for my father who died young, or kowtowing and kneeling in front of his grave one day, and I never thought that Tomb-Sweeping Day would burn paper and incense for his father every time. What my father left me, I can always feel, is the scar on the back of my right foot, which is my only memory of my father. Whether as a child or a teenager, a person is homesick, struggling and helpless in a foreign land far away from his relatives. The only thing I can do is silently look at the scar on my right foot. In tears, I can vaguely feel the warmth of my family. In a blur, I really want to see my father in heaven.
In the depths of my memory, there is always a vague but lingering childhood memory, which was the day when I just turned 3. One day at noon, my mother was cooking, and my father was sitting on the wooden pier in front of the kitchen, dragging his body after a long illness. His eyes were fixed on the burning flame in the kitchen, and his face was yellow and he looked very weak. I brought a long stemmed Chinese pipe for my father. Father took the pipe and turned to me with a wry smile. I took the opportunity to lean on my father's chest. I held the tongs with my little hands, and pulled out a piece of burnt charcoal from the stove with difficulty, trying to put it on my father's pipe. My father looked at me with his head sideways, smiling, and then held my wrist in his left hand, holding a cigarette bag in his right hand, and bowed his head and smoked a cigarette. I turned my head curiously and saw my father smoking. But as soon as I turned my head, the poker fell to the ground and my feet suddenly felt unbearable pain. I couldn't help jumping around on the ground and crying loudly. My father quickly threw off the tobacco pouch, picked me up from my waist with one hand and put it on my leg, and shook my right foot with the other hand. Red charcoal sticks to the instep of my foot, emitting a small cloud of black smoke and a burning smell. Father grabbed the hot coals and fell to the ground, blowing at my feet with his mouth. After I calmed down, he gently removed those small black particles for me with his hand, then coated me with liquid medicine and wrapped it in cloth with his mother. In tears, I saw my father's thin hands, slender fingers and trembling hands. My mother pulled me heartily, and my father motioned my mother not to take me away. So, I sat on my father's lap again. My back is close to my father's chest, and I feel very warm. I wiped the tears from my face, leaned against my father and looked at his face with wide eyes. I remember his face was yellow and thin, his lips were dry and white, and I fell asleep watching. When I woke up, it was already dark, and my father still hugged me and held my scalded foot with his hand. Later, I never had a father in my life. The scar on the back of my right foot that will never disappear is all my memories of my father. When I was a child, I would think of my father when I saw scars.
Last summer, overwork caused something wrong with my heart. I have entered middle age, and in the days of fighting the disease, I suddenly have a lot of feelings about life and human feelings. But I still didn't think of my father. To tell the truth, in the years since I became a mother 10, I seldom thought of my father. I transferred my true feelings, love and sustenance to other old people without reservation. I have tried my best to create my living space with all my enthusiasm, sincerity and transcendence, and I have no regrets. But when I was lying in bed, listening to my husband in the far north telling me his love on the phone and eating tofu and watermelon that my young son could only buy in the hot summer, my father in heaven thought of me.
That night, my tall father appeared in my dream wearing a blue cloth and a three-point hairstyle. His face was still yellow and sad. He stood facing me and just looked at me for a long time without saying a word. In my dreams, I always keep my father at a distance. I laughed and danced happily and ran desperately to my father. I opened my eyes wide, trying to see and remember my father's face. Father left me step by step. I woke up from my dream with great excitement. From then on, in my mind, my father finally had a clear and concrete image. I sat up, turned on the light, touched the scar on my right foot, and suddenly found that the scar was gone. Suddenly, a serious sense of loss replaced the excitement of seeing my father. I looked at my right foot, left and right, horizontal and vertical, and finally found the edge of the scar with the oblique light.
Last summer, it was my mother's birthday. I dragged my sick body home to celebrate my mother's birthday and took the opportunity to meet my father through my mother. So, I have many stories about my father.
My father's ancestral home is in southern Sichuan, and his ancestors lived in a small town with a treasure trove of feng shui for generations. My father is the fourth among eight brothers and sisters, and he is straightforward. Because my grandfather does good and helps the poor, teaches his children well and strictly abides by the style of the elderly, most of the eight children have received cultural education, among which the father and Sanbo have received the best cultural and moral education. After my grandfather died, my father played a connecting role among my brothers and sisters, and assumed multiple responsibilities of supporting my mother, family and brothers and sisters. In my hometown, my father is a prestigious teacher. He read many poems and books, full of classics. He never punishes children at school, and he doesn't talk to people easily except teaching. He is honest and generous, and he does not lose his principle in dealing with people. He shoulders the heavy responsibility of his family, neither suffering from loss nor complaining about others. He is full of peaches and plums, but he never boasts. Father has experienced the pain of countless relatives. Where will you go? You have experienced the sad process of the whole family from prosperity to decline, from concentration to dispersion, and then to separation of flesh and blood. In the face of many psychological blows from the bereavement of parents, brothers and children, he still firmly undertakes the obligation of supporting and resettling two pairs of siblings. After satisfying the hardships of life, he resolutely took his three nephews home and, together with his mother, maintained a home with seven children. The heavy burden of life overwhelmed parents, and with love and apology for mother, father's words became less and less, and his physical strength became more and more exhausted. He often looks at his mother's eyes red and tears silently under the lamp. He feels that he has caused his mother too much suffering, and he suffers from his inability to create happiness for his mother. The mother is a model of China women's hard-working, indomitable and sensible. She gave her whole youth and life to her father and children. Shortly after his second birthday, his father left his seven children and his mother. Mother wrapped her head in white cloth and buried her father with her little sister who was pregnant for eight months. After that, with a pair of calloused hands, a pair of small feet and an indomitable strong belief, we bravely provoked the burden put down by our father, experienced human suffering and lived a narrow life. We nourished the growth of seven children with our own blood and tears, and tried our best to educate us into strong people with sound personality and successful studies. My mother also told me: among several children, my father's characteristics are the most obvious on me: dark and yellow skin, tall, less nonsense, more generous, and even his fingers are like his fingers.
Although I didn't enjoy a lot of fatherly love, I enjoyed a deep maternal love. I have been proud of having a great mother for a long time, but I never thought I had an ordinary and deep good father. I feel extremely comforted by the blood of a pair of excellent parents in my veins. Now, I especially look forward to the night, especially want to dream. I expect my father to enter my dream again. I really want to say to my father in my dream: although you left us too early, your life continues on us, your blood flows on us, and your spiritual characteristics shape our souls and dominate our nature. Let us live a spirit and a life in this space where light and darkness, nobility and humility are intertwined.
Thank you, father. Yes 1. Think about your back. I feel terrible.
Touching your hand makes me feel difficult.
Unconsciously, your sideburns have grown white hair.
Silently, you have wrinkles around your eyes.
My old father, my favorite person.
There are ten points in the sweetness of the world, and you only tasted three points.
As your child, I haven't done enough in my life.
Please be my father in the next life.
After listening to you, I took over my confidence.
10 looking into your eyes, I see love.
1 1 Young and old, you hold filial piety in your hand.
12 No matter how hard and tired, everyone has a warm face.
13 My old father, my favorite person.
14 There are three points in the bitterness of life, but you eat ten points.
15 I haven't done enough to be your child in my life.
16 Please be my father in the next life.
My old father! Pure hand tour