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-In memory of my father

Inscription: that day, I came to your grave and looked at you through the thick snow. My footprints are printed on the white snow, like a real postmark-so I sent you pure snow and a dream of missing, dad, did you receive it?

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my father's death. I will say goodbye to ten years. Father, are you okay?

As long as I can remember, I knew that my father had been in poor health. Mom said that coughing every day is because your father was injured in the battle with Hao. Years ago, I was in Shanghai, and my father's comrade-in-arms and former district party secretary Chen Bobo also told me about the fighting situation at that time. Later, he recovered from the injury and went home. His father used to be the head of a small town. He was beaten to the right in the Cultural Revolution and suffered a lot. Our rural families have also been looked down upon. We are "overspending households" every year, and we can't eat every year. I was born in the late 1960 s and early 1970 s, but I also had the experience of begging for school, which may be incredible. My father's personality is very gentle and easy-going, and he seldom quarrels with others and rarely tells his family about himself. Therefore, it was not until a few years before his death that I went to the relevant departments such as civil affairs that I was able to make a statement and subsidize tens of yuan a month. It's nothing. I think the main thing is to restore his reputation. My father, who has been in the countryside for a long time, has long been indifferent to these reputations and social conditions. When I was a child, there was no labor force at home, and my father was quite weak. In order to take care of him, the production team sent him to a game and earned some work points. At that time, I often accompanied him to live in a house and sleep in a sweet potato cellar (people in the city may not know what a house is and what a sweet potato cellar is, but everyone in remote areas of northern Jiangsu knows it). From then on, every night I can hear my father tell me about his fighting experience of crossing the railway blocked by the enemy in the middle of the night and delivering letters to the front, as well as fairy tales of cowherd and weaver girl, snake swallowing elephant and so on. From then on, I felt my father's peaceful attitude and his happy and indifferent attitude.

Because my father is in poor health and has a bad cough, I want to buy some cough medicine like "Baichuanpeng" even though my family is poor. This medicine is very cheap, a bottle of 100 tablets is only 20 cents, and this medicine was still taken until my father died, because other medicines are good, but I can't afford it. It is even more difficult to have an intravenous drip, which costs more than one yuan at a time. Sometimes I'm too sick to give it once. In this way, my father will feel distressed for several days and say that he will not give it and leave money for me to go to school. I've had this idea since I was a child. I must study hard and earn money to give my father an intravenous drip. At that time, I knew that my father would be fine as long as he could hang himself. The children of the poor came to power very early. At that time, I was very sensible, and my academic performance was always among the best in school. My father is always proud of it. When I was admitted to the university, my family was so happy that my father cried with joy. In my memory, my father shed tears for me twice. Once, when I was eleven years old, my neighbor who was ten years older than me joked with me. The man twisted my arm backwards. I cried loudly on purpose. Hearing this, the father ran out at once. He had a big fight with others. I wasn't hurt at that time. It was intentional, but the fight was so noisy that I had to scream in pain. My father held my tears and kept flowing. And when I was admitted to college, I was the only college student in our village. Fortunately, we didn't have to take money to go to college at that time, but that's it. When I left, my father was still walking around and sold everything that could be sold at home, and he just prepared 179 yuan living expenses for me. Really, these things now sound like a fantasy, but they are a portrayal of my real life at that time.

During my college years, my father seldom took medicine and endured the pain in order to ensure that he would send me 15 yuan pocket money every month. He told his mother that as long as he thought of me, his illness would be much better and he didn't need to take medicine. But sometimes I often cough and bleed in order to buy twenty cents less medicine. My mother also understands my father, but there is no money at home, so I have to pull my younger brother and sister down from junior high school and let me study hard alone. To this end, mom and dad often cry at night. The father kept saying that he was sorry for the child and made the child suffer to death.

Later, I worked. First month's salary, nothing. I went to the drugstore and bought a lot of medicine for my father. At that time, my dad looked at me stupefied and said, how can you spend money indiscriminately and find someone later? But at this point, his eyes are already shining with crystal tears. As he spoke, he turned to rub his eyes and said that something had entered his eyes. ...

There is a pond in front of my hometown. My father found the place in the village and asked for it. He saved the money reissued to him by his superiors and said that he would keep it for building a house for me to get married. I made it clear that I didn't want it. I said that I had already worked, and the unit would give me a house. But he is still with his family, getting up early and going to the mat. Fill the soil when you are sick. Once I was so tired that I couldn't breathe and coughed. I didn't come up in one breath and almost turned my back. My face is purple and my body is weak. The family was scared to death, and then his mother would never let him touch the shovel again.

After I transferred to work in the city, the unit gave me two bungalows. I went home and told my father that I would take them to live in the city and become city people. Father's eyes have been shining, but he still can't go, saying that he is in poor health, and it is not easy to find someone in the city to get you into trouble. In fact, how much he wants to go, how much he hopes that one day I can really take them to live in the city. He once told his mother behind his back that it was worthwhile to live in the city for one more day, even if he died immediately. I didn't insist at that time, which became a permanent pain in my life.

From 65438 to 0994, my father, who was over 60 years old, couldn't stand the pain any longer, and his life was coming to an end. He suffers from emphysema, pleurisy, pleural effusion and other diseases. Because I was very busy at work at that time, I seldom went home once a month, and then I left in a hurry, and I didn't even have time to talk to my father. Until now, my father's eyes looking forward to communicating with me always hurt my heart. That day, I was still on a business trip in Shanghai and received an urgent call from home. My sister cried and said to me, come back quickly. Dad is dying. He keeps calling your name. I ran home as soon as I heard it. When I got home, my father had been moved from the bed to the grassy ground. Father heard that I was back and extended his hand to me. When I saw it, it wasn't a hand. It's just a thin human joint wrapped in a leather bag, which is no different from the hand bone of a dead person. I cried when I saw this. "Dad … What's wrong with you, Dad …"

"Son, you're back. I'm afraid ... I'm afraid I'll never see you again ..." Dad choked up. "Son, you ... you shouldn't come back. You can't ... you can't delay your work."

At this time, I rushed to my father, and my tears could not stop. My family and my two uncles began to cry.

After a while, the father said slowly, "Son, dad seems to be dying ... to live in the city with you ..."

Hearing this, my heart suddenly felt particularly uncomfortable. Yes, at that time, my father said that he was afraid that he would be a burden, which would affect my finding a partner. In fact, I didn't have such concerns at that time, so I didn't insist too much, but this was the only expectation of my father's life. Now, it has become a permanent regret and pain in my life.

I quickly said, "no, dad, when you get better, our whole family will move out." No, move now, ok? " Father shook his head feebly.

At eleven o'clock in the evening, my father's spirit suddenly improved, saying that he wanted to eat noodles and asked his mother to make him a bowl of noodles to eat, and his face became ruddy. Later, I learned that it was reflection. At that time, everyone said it would be good to come back and celebrate. I am also very happy, chatting with my father there, talking about some things at work, and some experiences of traveling abroad. Father is also very happy to hear the news. When I heard that I came back from a business trip, he was very upset, saying that he was still alive and asked his children to go to work early.

I said, "Dad, what are you talking about? When you are well, I can go to work with peace of mind. Well, stop talking and have a good rest, huh? "

Then I lay on the bed next to my father.

A few minutes later, I heard my father suddenly shout, "Son of a bitch, hurry up!" " ! I can't do it. "

I quickly jumped out of bed, and my mother cried and held my father in her arms. I saw my father's head slowly lowered and his body slowly stiffened. At this moment, I finally know that my beloved father will leave me forever, with that attachment, with that love for relatives, with that eternal regret, and never to return. From now on, the father who loves me, cares about me, cries for me, smiles for me and is proud of me is gone forever.

"Dad ..." This heartbreaking cry turned out to be the last lament for the world between father and son, between man and ghost. The father who loves suona only listens to the Sanskrit sound given to him by the distant world. Since then, the ghost songs have been exhausted, and no one can solve the infinite thoughts of the deceased.

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of my father's death. I will come to the decaying grass grave again and play the sad suona for my father. Maybe all I can understand is his caring heart that has been worrying about his son!