Contemporary Lyric Prose in Memory of Father —— In Memory of Father
I never believed that my father was really dead. I always thought it was a long trip, but day by day, month by month, year by year, I didn't wait for my father's return.
How time flies! My father has left us for more than ten years in a blink of an eye, but every time I think of his old man's house, the figure of my father struggling in that extremely difficult time is clearly presented in my mind. That deep fatherly love still seems to haunt me. When I want to write it, I don't know how to describe it with appropriate sentences. I can only use this simple, old and straightforward words to tell that my father's love is as thick as the earth.
I will never forget how my father struggled to support a family of eleven people in the eyes of others' discrimination; I will never forget how my father used amazing patience to honor his grandparents who were sick all the year round and raised seven unreasonable and naughty children. I can't forget my father's helplessness in the face of repeated failures in our family life.
My father's greatest wish is that even if only one of our seven brothers can walk out of the mountains and go to college. So in our long school years. Lonely and helpless parents never let us miss a class because of anything. However, we disappointing guys have never made my father feel the slightest pride. We didn't lift my father's drooping chin a little. When we all shouldered hoes and started the oldest work of mankind, I knew that my father's heart was as heavy as the fields he worked hard to cultivate in the year of catastrophe, but it was covered with bare straw. A deep sigh in the face of my father. I think my father must have a lot of blood in his heart.
Father is a very strong father, and his vision is farther than ordinary people. At the moment when many children of the same age can help their father reduce the burden in time, he has a new idea. He hopes that each of us has a skill and is not able to support our family. So we took my father's earnest expectation and took the money squeezed out of our family to study art everywhere. However, for various reasons, we once again failed to live up to his old man's hope.
Dear father, your old man really meant well, but we didn't give you any compensation, which once again brought you great disappointment.
All wishes are so far away, so uncertain, and all efforts can't solve the immediate predicament for a while. Facing our brothers growing up day by day, facing the fact that seven brothers are getting married, and facing three dilapidated houses that are far from enough to live in, my father, who is nearly sixty years old, led us to start making bricks by hand. For a long time, my father lived in a brick kiln, ate cold pickles and slept in a wet quilt. Finally, there are tens of thousands of bricks on the field, and my father's face is a little red. Who knows half a day, a heavy rain, all the efforts went up in smoke. My father tried to keep the bricks from falling in the rain with his thin body and his hands full of cracks and calluses, but the water under his feet had not reached his feet, and it was irreparable to watch the bricks fall in batches in front of him and behind him. But at that time, his father was only my father and my third brother. Seeing this scene, the third brother hurried forward to hold his father and said, "Dad, I can't do it. Forget it. " But my father looked at the adobe that had turned into mud, as if he were asking, and as if he were talking to himself: "No? No way. " But my hand has not left the crumbling wall.
That's not holding a brick, that's holding a hope.
Father sometimes holds his head high, but I know his heart is hanging; My father is thin, but I know his faith is strong. Father, dear father, the branches in your heart are already too heavy.
I envy those fathers who get what they pay, those who get what they eat, and those fathers who get together to brag, play chess and cards when they have nothing to do. All this is too far away from our father.
In the face of my father's tenacious struggle in the hard years, I secretly vowed in my heart that I must let my father live a good old age in the future. But this day will never come again. A terrible news like a bolt from the blue broke our dream of staying with our father for a long time. My father died of a heart attack because of overwork in the brick kiln.
It was 1992, the seventh day of the ninth lunar month, the second October of the solar calendar, and it was a day I will never forget.
From this day on, I never heard my father's kind voice again. From this day on, I never heard his warm care again.
For the next few days, my mother refused to treat my father like a dead man. She never believed that a good person was close at hand overnight but could never speak again. It turned out to be a farewell forever. In those days, my mother always cried with her food in her arms at intervals, and tried to iron it herself and feed it to my father bite by bite. But how can father swallow it? The rice overflowed from dad's mouth and wet a large pillow towel.
Mother said that her father never let others serve him when he was alive, and she would make it up to him.
From now on, we must support one world, and I am not sad about it. I only lament that my father didn't enjoy a day's happiness when he was alive and didn't make us tired for half a minute.
Dad, dear dad, there is no more exhortation from you every time I go out, and there is no more figure of you waiting anxiously every time I go out late. You have cleared the thorns on our growth path for us, and you are a solid and warm backer behind us. Now, not anymore.
Father, dear father. When do you think our house will be repaired and our brother will go home? You should have a good rest. That day, you didn't wait; When you said there was no foreign debt at home, you didn't wait until that day; When do you think autumn harvest will not be a burden? You didn't wait that day.
Your simplest wish for life has become a holiday that you can't wait forever.
Contemporary Lyric Prose in Memory of Father —— In Memory of Father
On July 30th, 20 13, the land of Sanqin was scorched by the scorching sun. Today is a very sad day for me. At about 8 o'clock, Zheng's father suddenly fell into a coma at the County Red Cross Renai Hospital. Forty or fifty minutes after being sent to the county people's hospital for emergency treatment, 1: 30, my father left forever.
My father left, and this father who loved me since I was a child, who once made me feel burdensome, quietly left! A heartbreaking sadness and pain occupied my heart. When I heard the doctor in the county hospital tell our children to prepare for the funeral, I collapsed to the ground. In an instant, complaining about my father's past suddenly turned into unspeakable remorse and regret. Tears welled up in my eyes "Dad, my son is unfilial, I'm sorry for your old man!"
In the past, the past of father and son getting along was like a movie. When I was a child, I used to sit in front of my father's bike. My father carried his bike and told stories while walking. He walked more than 60 miles in one breath. My classmates and I skipped classes and went swimming and fishing in Youfeng Reservoir. My father grabbed me and beat me up. 1995 after failing in the college entrance examination, my father and I went to Xianyang and passed by the railway station. Once, I was extremely pessimistic. I climbed to the third floor of the station and wanted to jump to end my life. My father grabbed me, hugged me, and encouraged me to start all over again, which helped me out of the shadow of extreme mental disorder? My father left suddenly, leaving no last words, no last words, leaving only infinite regret and self-blame for being children.
According to my uncle, my father was smart and studious when he was a child. When he was a child, he was always the top scholar in the county west school district, and he was the first or second in every exam. In the early 1960s, he was admitted to the county normal middle school (regional school) and became an outstanding student in the county normal secondary school. After graduation, he actively responded to the party's call to support education in northern Shaanxi, and his father signed up to teach in Changwu Mountain area. One autumn morning in the 1960 s, my father went to Changwu to teach in a carriage, with a quilt sewn by my grandmother and aunt on his back. Two years later, my father was hungry, sold everything and returned to his hometown. Father came back and wanted to farm with grandpa, but he was scolded back. He had to report to the unit to build the Baoji Gorge water conservancy project. My father worked there for several years. After Baoji Gorge was repaired, he worked in Sufang Township Government of Wugong County, then worked in Youfeng Township Government and Ganxiankou Township Government, and worked in Ganxian Culture Bureau from 65438 to 0995 until his retirement.
1998, my father retired to live in his hometown. In the summer of 2000, my mother died prematurely because of ineffective cancer treatment. The early death of my mother made my retired father feel infinitely lonely and sad because he missed his mother. I planted apples and flowers in my hometown alone. Every time my wife and I go home, we can feel the breath of nature. Because my father lives alone at home, it is inevitable to be lonely. His father's spirit seems a little abnormal. Every time he goes home, he can feel the loneliness and scoundrel of the old man! Eating and washing clothes have become a problem. The usual cold and fever are not treated in time, and the old age makes my father's health worse and worse. In the autumn of 20 10, we took our father to live in Ganxian, and let him get the daily care and companionship of his children. City life makes people more and more busy, and the elderly are more and more lonely. We are too busy to spend much time with our father. Every time I see it, it's just simple to be caring and attentive. The passage of time and the accumulation of age make the elderly more and more lonely. He is always in the empty room with the TV! The pressure of life makes me silent. I seldom talk to my father and seldom go out to play. For many years, my father's greatest wish was to visit Tiananmen Square in Beijing. Our children are afraid of accidents and are too busy to support them to go out. Lonely and helpless father appeared infinite anxiety and sadness and finally fell ill. Slowly suffered from mild cerebral infarction and brain atrophy.
20 1 1 My father has been in good health since a serious illness in summer. My father lived a quiet life until the week before his death. The temperature of 38 degrees is really too hot. On the afternoon of July 27th, I went to Ganling Farm with me. I slept in the cave of Ganling farm all night, and I had a cold and a fever. On the morning of July 29th 10, I went to Ganxian Red Cross Renai Hospital. After a day of infusion, my father recovered quickly, but in the evening, after injecting two injections of diazepam prescribed by Dr. Zhang (Liquan County Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine), my father was panting and never woke up. On July 30th, 1 1 was sent to the county hospital for emergency treatment. 1: 40, my father breathed the last breath of nature and quietly left.
The hospital ambulance sent his father's body back to his hometown in Gouyang. The old house that has been uninhabited for many years has fallen into disrepair. Weeds in the yard are several feet high, and garbage is piled up everywhere. The house is old and disrepair, several cracks open like a child's mouth, and the air is filled with elegant damp and moldy smell. With the help of my brothers and sisters, my father's body was placed on the hastily built bed board. My brother and sister cried around my father's body, and we were busy cleaning up the garbage and other things in the garden with tears in our eyes to prepare for the funeral. After a while, the villagers who came to pay their respects gathered in a circle and burst into tears in the village. The elders in the village, such as Uncle Thirteen, Uncle Seventeen, Grandpa Seven, etc., are one of the few friends in the village who help each other with crutches and also come to pay New Year greetings. For a time, they sobbed and groaned one after another, and their children and relatives cried and wailed. How sad this situation is!
Kneeling in front of my father's bed, I was already heartbroken: "Dad, my son is sorry for not taking good care of you. I remember sitting next to you when I was a child, pestering you to buy this and that, listening to your stories about monsters in Journey to the West, and taking me to Xi 'an and other places to play. My son has grown up, and he hasn't been filial to you. He was blinded by the secular atmosphere, blindly pursuing material things, ignoring his good feelings and feelings for you. In the face of your warning, I always thought you were too old to listen. When I was with you, I didn't have a good chat with you or have a good meal with you. Now, after I understood, you passed away. Even if my son owns Jinshan Yinshan, he will come back to your resurrection. It's hard to repay your kindness of nurturing and caring! At night, a rare rainstorm struck in the thunder and lightning, and the dilapidated old house leaked rain everywhere. Rain fell from the dark sky in a long arc in lightning, and the grief of losing my father and lightning tore my heart. (
The rain stopped in the morning, the funeral procession lined up in a long white line, my father's hearse slowly moved forward, and the sad cry spread all the way. Everyone in the village lit a fire in front of their house to see this helpful and amiable old man off! The villagers in the village waited in the cemetery early, and the loess they carried was scattered on his father's coffin, and his father was gradually buried in the loess. "Dad, dad, my son is sorry for you. From now on, you and your son will be separated from each other forever. My son will never see your smile or hear your familiar voice again. When I miss you, I can only visit your grave in Tomb-Sweeping Day and winter solstice. If you are alive in the sky, let's have a dream! "
Dad, dad, in order to repay your kindness, I will be your son in the afterlife! I will definitely pay off my son's debt to your old man.
In the hot summer, I believe that my father is alive in the sky, accompanying our children, wishing my son peace, and wishing my father peace in the spirit of heaven forever! Dad, my son will miss you forever!
Miss my father's related prose articles;
1. Prose on Remembering Father
2. Sad prose in memory of his father
3. Appreciation of Prose Poems in Memory of Father
I miss my father's excellent articles.
I miss my father's excellent articles.