It is mother's nagging about food, clothing and warmth, and meticulous care is as meticulous as continuous spring rain. And the father is not good at words, usually taciturn, and his love for his son is hidden in the depths of his eyebrows, and he never says it easily, so-the father loves nothing.
Dad was a mountain since childhood. I respect and admire him and always follow in his footsteps. Then I felt that I had grown up. I am young and frivolous, thinking that I can hold up the vast sky with my own hands. I was tired of that seriousness, turned around and threw my worried eyes in the wind. But I finally found out that what I did when I left my father was not as good as I thought. It was not until I met a nail that I realized the hardships of life and the importance of my father. I finally understand that behind me is a deep love, which has always been with me.
Father-he spent half his life propping up a blue sky of hope for our family with his backbone. For me, he burned himself, gave me light and heat, and made me grow up warm and healthy.
Father works from morning till night every day, working hard for the happiness of our family and fighting for the cause! In any case, my father can always meet my requirements, even if he pays more, he thinks it is worth it. My happiness is my father's greatest happiness. When I made progress, my father seemed happier than me, and his eyebrows were filled with incomparable joy. When I failed, my father buried his frustration in his heart, his eyes were full of hope and he encouraged me earnestly.
Although my father is a strong man, he sometimes falls down. Father worked hard for many years, and finally one day, he couldn't bear such a big pressure anymore and fell down.
When my mother and I were in the hospital, he lay quietly in bed with intravenous drip, as if he had never relaxed, and finally his father's burden could be temporarily put down and have a rest. But is this relaxation only available when my father is ill? Looking at my father's haggard face, I secretly made up my mind: I can't let my father work hard all my life. Even for my father, I will study hard and repay him with excellent results so that my father can enjoy family happiness with my mother in his later years.
Every drop of blood on me was given by my parents. Sometimes my father is willing to give up his dream and sacrifice everything for me, but in the end, he doesn't ask for anything, he just wants me to have a good future with less pain and more happiness, as simple as that. It is said that the ocean is the vastest. In my opinion, the most selfless thing is my father's fraternity! Father is noble, just giving, not taking; As usual, no favors.
Father, let me thank you. When I walked towards you, I wanted to lift a spray, but you gave me the whole boundless ocean.
Father, let me thank you. When I came to you, I wanted a white cloud, but you gave me the whole boundless sky.
Father, let me thank you. When I came to your side, I wanted to harvest a spring breeze, but you gave me the whole spring full of vitality.
Father! Young and crazy, I deeply felt this love higher than the mountain and deeper than the sea, although my father didn't love anything.
Father loves tea.
Gently pour boiling water into the teapot with tea fragrance, and let the tea roll and jump with the waves until it is calm. In an instant, the withered tea leaves become moist and stretched, smart and serene, just intoxicating. The fragrance of tea lingers, and the sweetness turns into a cloud and a wisp of wind, echoing leisurely.
Father likes drinking tea. In the afternoon of leisure, he likes to savor the fragrant teas. Getting along with my father day and night, I found that there was fragrant tea in my father's shadow, and my father's love was as clear as that tea.
Father loves tea.
"Cheep", the door was gently pushed open, soft footsteps, every step seems to be so hard, the bottom of the cup touched the table slightly, and then there was a soft footsteps in my ear. I lie prone on my desk, listening to this calm and warm moment in my sleep.
The breeze brought a faint scent of tea, with a little warmth, close to my sense of smell. Looking up, a cup of hot green tea has been safely placed in front of the table, clear and yellowish, fascinating.
I don't know when, and every night, I write at my desk. When my mind is full of fatigue and I can't support it, my father will always come in quietly and quietly put a cup of hot tea in front of my desk. Hold it in your hand and sip it gently. The familiar taste is just right. Tired of learning, frustrated and confused, at that moment, you can all get a touch in this indifferent tea fragrance. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I was no longer lonely at this moment. Tea is my father's dear words, and his love is my deepest comfort when I am weak.
As usual, I tasted tea My father's hint and the insipid fragrance of tea seem to be our tacit understanding. I always feel that my father's love, like his favorite tea, always warms my heart at that moment, although the tea is not rich and its fragrance is only faint.
Father loves tea. With a few faint fragrance, it flows into my heart from the tip of my tongue.
I still remember that the delicious set meal in that shop is still vaguely in my mouth. Whenever it is combined with my father's tea-making skills, it is a perfect match. I love it after all. I often have tea with my father in my spare afternoon, and I am not bored.
The owner is hospitable, and the business of the packing shop has been booming. It's just that it's remote here, and the journey is a little far, which requires some efforts. My father loves me very much. Every weekend, he goes in person, so that I can have a charming afternoon tea when I rest at home on weekends.
I remember one day, it rained continuously for a long time, and it rained continuously for several days. At the weekend, my father planned to go to that bag shop, but my mother dissuaded him. Father's attitude is so firm, but mother's dissuasion is still powerless. At that time, the atmosphere was a little low, and I didn't care too much. I wonder why my mother tried to dissuade me.
Father's trip seems to be longer than usual. As soon as my father stepped into the house, I took the parcel with joy and took out the plate to decorate it. Father smiled and fiddled with the tea set, making tea in an orderly way.
After a busy episode, I can't wait to put a small bag to my mouth and sip fragrant tea. The taste is still endless, but strangely, there is still a trace of bitterness in that delicious food?
A few days later, I found my father faltering. I asked my father, but he just smiled and didn't answer. One night, I happened to pass by my parents' room. The door was unlocked and the light in the room leaked through the crack of the door. I pushed open the door gently, which surprised me. My father put ointment on his knees. It suddenly occurred to me that my mother said that my father's knee joint was rheumatic and it would hurt every rainy day ... I suddenly burst into tears.
I thought my father enjoyed this afternoon tea as purely as I did. However, I was wrong. The happy afternoon accumulated a lot of pain and fatigue for my father, but I didn't know it at all.
Since then, every time I eat that tea, it is not only delicious, but also bitter and sad. I always feel that my father loves me like tea. Although the fragrance of tea is so insipid, it lingers in my heart and nourishes my soul.
Picked a green side of the tea garden, cut a corner of the sky blue, tea is the messenger of love, precipitated my father's affection, into my morning and evening, into my life. Whether it is a shallow taste or a deep taste, the mood of tea tasting becomes suddenly enlightened. At this moment, it's not the freshness and simplicity of the tea when it was just picked, but the deepest memory in the deep leaves after baking, thanking me for my love.
These days, the cold rain came unexpectedly. Father's rheumatism has broken out again, and the situation is more serious than before. Father's enthusiasm for making tea seems to be powerless at the moment. In the past, the living room filled with tea was empty, strange and lonely.
That day, when I walked past the familiar coffee table, I found that the teapot that my father had fondled in the past had been covered with dust. In this scene, my heart seems to be washed away by strong tea, and my sadness is full of bitterness. I can't help fiddling with my father's tea set and making tea carefully, more carefully than ever.
I quietly pushed the door and walked into my father's room, holding my father's favorite Tieguanyin in my hand. My father is still asleep. After careful study, I found that my father's tired face was even more haggard.
The fragrance of tea suddenly filled the small room. At this moment, I was in tears.
After that, my father didn't mention it again, but I obviously felt that my father left the taste of the tea in his heart with his keen sense.
Father loves tea. There is the implication of tea fragrance, the persistence of tea fragrance, the richness of tea and the quietness of tea. Even a gentle sip is enough to refresh my mind and make me relaxed and happy. Walking in my father's feelings, enjoying the fragrance all the way. Every fragrance can shake my heart and arouse my endless gratitude.
Father likes drinking tea. Holding that fragrant tea, I will remember it all my life and be grateful.
Father's love has no swan song.
Father's love is an ordinary song, which pervades every season of my life.
"Life begins with literacy." From the day I went to school, I was upset by endless homework, so my father developed the habit of reading with me at night. Every night, he always moved a chair to sit next to me, as silent as a stone, and his stern eyes kept me from "crossing the line."
One night, my father fell asleep. Mother said quietly, "Your father is too tired. Let him have a rest and leave him alone. " But the bamboo chair creaked, and my father woke up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and saying to himself, "Oh, dear! Duke Zhou said he would come! " Light then took out a cigarette and smoked hard. The next day, he deliberately unscrewed a wedge from the bamboo chair. The old bamboo chair shook even more, and it creaked and kept ringing when it moved a little. My father said that I don't have to worry about falling asleep anymore, but in order not to make noise and affect my study, he always sits still with his back bent. Once I woke up in a dream and heard my father whisper, "I have a bad back pain." Wipe it. " Mother went on to say, "I will study with my children tomorrow, so don't worry." The work of the production team and the private plot are not enough for you! ""no! It's my father's fault to raise and not teach. It's my fault that my son grew up to be worthless. Ouch ... "Tears wet my pillow towel that night.
Think about the reason why you have good study habits now, which is probably the foundation laid in those five years. After middle school, I went to boarding school. The middle school is in a small town more than twenty miles away from home, and my father sends me rice to stir-fry from time to time. Whether it is winter or summer, he always comes as scheduled, for fear that he will be exhausted. I begged him repeatedly not to come. He put the things on the bed for a while and kept saying, "As long as you study hard, Dad will be satisfied." I know that this sentence contains my father's lifelong expectations and wishes, so I quickly stopped arguing and closed my mouth.
I remember a snowy winter, I was reading by a small fire. I glanced out of the window with my eyes: Did dad come with such a big snowstorm? The mountain road is frozen. Is it difficult to walk? Is the old ferryman in Hekou still ferrying? So I sat at noon in fear and trembling, only to see a familiar figure jump into my eyes in the snow. "Dad-"I threw the book away and rushed out.
"Dad, you will spoil me if you go on like this." Looking at his exhausted appearance, I couldn't help it. The next spring, I finally took this "right" from him. But every time I go home, when my mother is packing, he reminds me. I understand his pain and keep silent every time.
Maybe it's God's will. In those dull days, I fell in love with the muse and wrote at my desk all day. When my first article won the third prize in the province and participated in the summer camp near the West Lake, the news of losing the college entrance examination came at the same time. At that moment, I really wanted to throw myself into the blue waves, only to find my father's eyes staring at me mysteriously and majestically in the lake.
When I came home with my bag on my back, my father sighed heavily and went back to the back room after reading the pile of waste manuscript paper I brought back.
I can't stand my father's frown and other people's strange eyes. In order to fulfill my literary dream, I chose the military camp. My mother refused to travel as an only child. My father looked at me for a long time and finally said, "well, go to the army to practice."
Fate seems to have played a joke on me again. The tanker became an engineer-a "migrant worker" to be exact. In a big ravine, we played with a pneumatic drill day and night to move stones, and our dancing hands formed thick cocoons. I can't stand the pain and want to be a "deserter". Father wrote in the letter: "If you can't do it well, you are not my son!" " I read my father's fiery heart from the lines that smelled of smoke and mud.
So I picked up a pen and poured out my feelings to the "grid" in the middle of the night. Two years later, when I saw my father again with the admission notice from the journalism department of Political College and a stack of articles published in newspapers and magazines, he was obviously old. Those hands that have made me tremble countless times and read my father's love are full of veins standing out. He stroked me and murmured, "son, you are grown up now, so you should fly well with hard wings."
My father no longer tells me what to do in his letters, and he gives me fewer and fewer letters. But in the middle of the night, as long as I lie in bed, I can still feel my thick hands dancing in the beat of my life.
It is true that fatherly love has no swan song.
Father's love is like a mountain, solid and reliable.
Inscription: If I were a grass, then my father would rot under my roots with his own flesh and blood, and let me thrive; If I have feet, then every road I walk has gravel paved with my father's body, which makes me more practical; If I can stand up, then he must be standing on his father's shoulder.
Family, an ancient vine, carries nostalgia for the years and lingering for the past. Flourishing branches, full of yearning, tolerance and waiting, condense the past, present and future.
Affection is a sea of affection, depicting the most beautiful picture in spring and magnificent poems in summer. A broad mind is full of longing, missing and attachment, full of joy, care and hope.
Affection is a golden ribbon, which makes hearts embrace and love converge. History is inseparable, the years are constantly cutting, looking for the Millennium, and the ends of the earth are closely connected.
I don't remember who said the above words, but I remember that on that cold winter night, I pressed this yellow paper under the desk glass. Maybe I didn't savor the meaning. If this text program is not about family, I may have forgotten that this article is called Family. With the growth of age, people have different views on things, and of course I am no exception. There are family ties in the world: family ties, love and friendship are all important. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose my family.
When I was a child, I always thought it was normal and natural for my father to love me. Perhaps my father's contribution to me can only be truly understood and realized when I become a father one day. Now look at "family" carefully, it seems that we can vaguely understand the middle meaning. It's a little sad to think of it. My father was very angry when I was a child, but I don't know why I didn't know what to say when I was with my father. After leaving my father, I miss him day and night. Looking at my father's increasingly pale hair in recent years is very unpleasant.
Father is a down-to-earth, sincere, diligent, simple, honest and loyal person. Father's love is not good at words, but only by heart. When I was a child, my father gave me the deepest impression that anything would do. When I was a child, I decided to be a generalist like my father when I grew up. "My life is tired! For you, for this family! " When I was a child, my father once said this to me with a smile. When I was a child, I looked at my father with an innocent face and smiled, but I couldn't understand. Only father has this home. Father supported the whole family with his hands. At that time, my mother was sickly and could only do some simple housework. It can be said that father has always played the dual role of father and mother. Whether it is washing clothes and cooking, or tutoring my sister and me, my father should take care of my sick mother. I grew up eating my father's cooking,
I clearly remember my father's tears. Even under the attack of illness, I have never seen my father's tears. I always thought my father wouldn't cry, at least not in front of me. That was when I was in the first grade, and my grandmother passed away. My father was afraid that I couldn't find a job after I failed in my studies, so he bought the inheritance right of my ancestral home from my uncle and they rebuilt it. My father was too busy with his work and rebuilding his ancestral home to take care of me. My sister went to study abroad, leaving me alone in the Nuo family. Naughty by nature, I took out the pocket money my parents gave me while my family was away. I was crazy. Walking around with my classmates every day, buying snacks, playing games and roller skating, and staying at home for several nights. I vaguely remember that Tuesday morning, a familiar figure appeared outside the school gate Yes, it's him, my father. Looking at my father's tired body, it seems that he has been old for a while. Father looked at me for a long time and said nothing. I know what my father's eyes are saying to me, as if asking me why I haven't been home for a few days. Air condenses and time stops. When he left, his father said, "Your mother and I have no time to take care of you these days. You have lost weight again! " When my father turned away, I saw the glittering tears in his eyes. My father cried, and my father, who never cried in front of me, also cried, which gave me a great shock. It hurts a little to think of it now. No matter what I did wrong, my father never hit me or scolded me, but patiently educated me and gave me reason. Because my father's tears shocked me, I restrained a lot and learned a lot from then on.
The night before I left my hometown to study abroad for the first time in my life, my father told me many, many exhortations. I have never slept with my father once in my life. It was not until late at night that I fell asleep in my father's voice. I feel that my father didn't get up and leave, and looked at me quietly. That night, when I looked at ..........., he loved his son all his life. ........... later learned from his mother's words that my father didn't sleep a wink that night, watching my leaving son. My father always thinks of me in the middle of the night after I leave. To me, I am like a bird flying freely from a cage. I don't know how comfortable it is, but I never thought of my father's worry.
I started working in 2002. My sister came to the city where I work on business. Brother and sister, long time no see, there are endless words, but I always feel that my sister seems to have something to say to me, but she has taken it back. I saw it. After my repeated questioning, I learned that my father had cerebral thrombosis more than a week ago, which led to transient shock that night. He was admitted to the hospital after 4 o'clock in the middle of the night. My father gave me a job and wouldn't let my mother and my sister tell me the news. Cerebral thrombosis? It was like a bolt from the blue, and I deeply felt that my father was old again. I asked my boss for leave, packed my bags and went home with my sister to visit my father.
When I saw my father again, he looked surprised, but looking at my sister behind me, my father understood everything. "How did you come back?" "Sister doesn't say you are ill, I still don't know what's going on?" "Nothing, a little ailment, need it to be? I told you I was afraid you would be distracted at work. " Father's cerebral thrombosis has stabilized, but it has left a sequela-walking is no longer so neat and limping.
When I went back last month, the room was still the same, and my limping father was busy getting me quilts and sheets. My eyes are moist. Father still loves me like that. My father worked hard for me all his life. What did I give him? I think I must be a good son of my father in the future, so as not to worry him or make him angry. If I can't even do this, I don't deserve to be my father's son.
Father, I love you ... I will make you happy. I also want to tell children all over the world that loving our parents is our blessing.