When I came home from work, on the bus, an old man chewed dry steamed bread and asked me where to transfer to North Station. After a few words, I realized that he had come to see his son at school. My son went to college last year, and the old man was not at ease, so he came to see his son specially. My eyes are moist, and I can't help thinking of when my father came to see me in Shenyang.
1September, 990, I just graduated from college and was assigned to Shenyang from the northwest. I am a stranger and feel very lonely. Father came all the way from his hometown. After nine hours by train and two hours by bus, my father went downstairs to my dormitory. A full face of sweat, shining in the sunset, showing extreme fatigue. My hands are filled with my favorite fruit, salted eggs preserved by my mother, and cotton-padded clothes to keep out the cold. ...
The scene of that year is vivid, and I can't help crying every time I think about it. It doesn't matter what my father brought me. What matters is fatherly love. I suppressed my uneasy mood in the new environment, which was diluted a lot by my father's arrival. This is also a very happy thing for dad. He only sent me to Beijing when I first entered the university, and my father didn't have a chance to go to the northwest for the next four years. This is a regret in my father's heart. But Shenyang is where my father often comes. So as soon as I graduated from Shenyang, my father went to see me at work on business.
However, this opportunity is only a few times for my father and me. The winter I came to Shenyang, my father was ill. In my impression, my father has always had a strong body. He often says that he is the most medicine-saving person in the factory. A headache and a cold are nothing. But we all don't know that my father suffered from essential hypertension and overwork, and he had a stroke in his early fifties. Although he was out of danger, he left a legacy. My father has been running around for decades, and finally he can only walk with crutches. But after more than five years of illness, my father learned to take care of himself bit by bit with tenacious perseverance. He is eager for an early recovery, but he often realizes that his health is getting worse and worse. He knew that he would never visit his three daughters in Dalian, Shenyang and Beijing again ... 1996 In Tomb-Sweeping Day, his father fell ill again, was in a coma for eleven days, struggled with death for eleven days, and finally left. ...
How many sleepless nights, thinking of my father who is already in another world, tears always soak my eyes. In the bleak moonlight, on the silent hillside, my father lay there. Does he know what his daughter misses?
Dad is a person who loves reading. In those days, he could not continue his studies because of his poor family. He took the high school admission notice and went to Changchun with his brother to find a job. After work, he studied correspondence courses in the Chinese Department. He loves China's classical literature, and ancient poetry often comes with his mouth open. I like Beijing opera, too. Mother complained to us that he had not saved any money before he got married. "All the money was spent on books and theatres." When he got married, he brought back books from Changchun. Dad loves reading, which also affects our sisters. I have known to study consciously since I was a child, and I feel that learning is a kind of fun, and I never need to be urged by my parents. As a result, my father's college dream that he failed to realize came true for his daughter. Although my sister didn't apply for the "Chinese Department of Liaoning University" according to her father's wishes, she chose Changchun, where her father worked, and was later assigned to Dalian. I was admitted to the Foreign Languages Department of Lanzhou University. My sister was also recommended to Beihang University with excellent results, and later admitted to graduate school. All three daughters have been admitted to universities, and they are all key universities, which is also the proudest thing for my father in this life. Dad also supports me as a teacher. When I first came to Shenyang, my father taught me to work with peace of mind and said, "What happened to teaching and educating people?"
Dad also passed on his noble character to us. At that time, he was the chief of supply and marketing. In an era of material scarcity, he still has some privileges. But he never took advantage of his position to accept ill-gotten gains. I clearly remember several times when people sent money home and said, "All the children are studying, so spend more money". But every time I was rejected by my father, my expression was terrible. Dad always said, "be honest and don't do anything wrong." Dad especially likes the Beijing opera "Bao Long Tu". Is this the reason? I inherited my father's genes, and I especially hate those "corrupt elements". I think the so-called "gray income" is a stain of personality degeneration. During my ten years as a teacher, I also met students and parents who gave me gifts in order to pass the exam, and I politely refused. Maybe it's nothing, but I feel worthy of my father!
Dad gave me his most precious pen when he was alive. He said I was a teacher and a "cultured person". I cherish this pen as much as I cherish my father's trip to Shenyang in my heart. I think what I have saved is not only a pen, but also a scene, and more of a father's love. I remember reading such a passage: "For me, fatherly love is like a stream flowing down from the top of a mountain, which is particularly clear because of its noble source. Although there is no surging torrent, it has been flowing quietly, naturally ... Most importantly, it will flow forever ... "Yes, whenever I think of those treasures, my father's silent and heavy love for his children surges in my heart.
When dad was alive, he often felt that time passed in a hurry. "Flowers are similar every year, but people of different ages are different." Dad left me for more than four years. 1996 When I left home during the Spring Festival, I told my father to buy him a white shirt when I came back in the summer. I know my father likes white. Dad said that the old shirts can still be worn, so there is no need to buy new ones. I also promised to buy him lychees, and my father happily sang the famous poem: "Riding a princess in the world of mortals and laughing, but it was lychee." Dad is very interested. But he didn't wait until the arrival of summer, and he left on that warm spring day in bloom ... "The tree wants to be quiet but the wind doesn't stop, and the child wants to raise and the relatives are not there." Does he know his daughter's mood?
Father's Day is coming. I want to give this document to my father who is buried underground, and to all the fathers and children in the world, including the old man who asked me for directions and chewed the steamed bread dry.
You can change it.