There is new water in the East China Sea every year, and white clouds rise in the West Mountain.
You can't find a thousand-year-old tree in the forest, but it's hard to find a centenarian in the world.
The mountains and rivers are still there, but there is no old mother in front of the hall!
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When we entered the October of the lunar calendar, we met one of the biggest traditional festivals in China-Hanyi Festival, which was a day of mourning and gratitude. It, Tomb-Sweeping Day and the Mid-Autumn Festival are also called the three ghost festivals in a year. Different from the other two Ghost Festivals, the Cold Clothes Festival is different from burning paper money for the deceased relatives, because when winter comes, it is necessary to burn ghost clothes to protect the relatives far away from heaven from the wind, rain, snow and wind.
In October, the cold wind blew, and I couldn't stop crying. The cold rain dripped and I was sad and blurred. In the storm, the living people are entrusted with endless grief and deep nostalgia for their lost loved ones!
There is a most beautiful voice in the world, and that is the call of mother!
Mother, the warmest and most touching word, has made many people write deep feelings. Mother is the only person in the world who can restore our true self to her regardless of any role or image. Before her, we will always be children who will never grow up.
"Only a mother is good in the world, and a child with a mother is like a baby ... Only a mother is good in the world, and a child without a mother is like a grass ..." This nursery rhyme, which I loved most when I was a child, has never fallen in love with it. In retrospect, I know that I have become the grass in the song without the care of my mother!
Ten years of life and death are two boundless, I don't think about it, I will never forget it, I am a lonely grave, and I have nowhere to talk. ...
Every time I think of Mr. Su Shi's heartbroken words, I always miss him like a flood and burst into tears. ...
Mother, she has been away from us for more than five years, five years, more than 1,800 days and nights. In these five years, there are many tears that we dream back at midnight, recording our unspeakable heartache!
I can't forget the past, I can't shake it off, and my eyes are hazy, as if I have returned to the past. ...
My mother, a woman with traditional virtues in China, is gentle, modest and hardworking, but also calm, tenacious and strong. In the hard years when we were short of materials and well-fed, my mother and father led our six sisters through that hard, poor, warm and happy time.
When suffering came, that few words, hard-working, but left my father and our mother, and died like this, how can it not be heartbreaking and painful!
Five years ago that March, we got a call from our father and hurried home. My mother closed her eyes and couldn't speak, as if she had lost consciousness. No matter how much we scream and cry, mom can't talk to us anymore. ...
At noon the next day, in the call of my uncle "Sister, Sister", I clearly saw my mother's closed eyes and shed tears. ...
Mom, my daughter knows that although you can't talk anymore, how much you can't bear to part with, how much you can't let go of, and how much you want to tell us! How many words, I want to talk to your brother again, about how you and my grandmother used to live alone, and how to spend that war-torn and shuddering years. ...
But you left quietly without saying anything. ...
Mom, my old mother, worked hard all her life and loved her children, but she lost her heart and hurt her daughter's. ...
I hope I can have an elevator to heaven, so that my daughter will go to see you regardless. Mom, my daughter misses you and misses you. ...
God, why can't you hold where you are going to the world with your magical and powerful hand, and make your living relatives cry, while you can only watch the loess helplessly, from now on. ...
Since then, the four seasons have been reincarnation, and the pavilions of the ancient road can no longer find the kind and cordial smile of the mother. Her thin and holy figure can only live in our memory forever! How many times in the dead of night, I miss you like a ruin, tears like rain, and my sadness grows like a vine, overflowing the silent night and the boundless sky. ...
Since mom left, although dad is still alive, we always feel that we have no home and no reason to be happy, and our laughter has quietly gone away!
I once read a poem that deeply touched my soul:
"The water in the waterfall goes upstream,
Dandelion seeds floated back from afar and gathered into umbrellas.
The sun rises in the west and sets in the east.
The bullet returned to the chamber.
Athletes return to the starting line
I handed in the admission notice and forgot the ten-year cold window.
The smell of food wafted from the kitchen.
You signed my papers.
Help me put my schoolbag on my back.
You are still by my side. " ...
Mom, how I wish I could go back to my childhood and hold your hand every day;
I want to see your happy face when I go home every weekend and your lingering eyes when I leave home.
I wish you were still with me, still with me, but you are no longer with me. I wish I could … but time can't go back!
Filial piety ranks first in life among all virtues.
Filial piety is an interpretation of kindness and love;
Filial piety is fleeting attachment;
Filial piety is happiness that cannot be copied.
How happy it is to call my parents and be answered!
May all the children in the world love their parents well when they are alive, be filial to them, be as old as children, and coax them well, and never leave the sad regret that "the tree wants to be quiet but the wind will not stop, and the son wants to be filial and not wait for his relatives"!
Parents are here, there is still a place to go in life, and when parents are gone, there is only the way home in life!
Mom, autumn is far away and winter is coming. May you take care of yourself, put on your clothes and live safely on earth!
Yi Jian Han Mei, formerly known as Han Hengmei, comes from Pizhou City, Jiangsu Province, a little girl who walks quietly in the plum garden in the depths of her soul. I hope that in my old age, I can have a yard surrounded by plum blossoms, accompanied by a Zhang Suqin, a casual book and a half pot of moonlight. I still have waist-length hair and cook snow at dusk. ...