The reason why I walk slowly is not that I am worried about the change of my appearance. Many years ago, my white hair was always with me, and wrinkles had kissed my face. Walking slowly stems from my selfishness as a child.
I am not easy to say old, because my old mother, who is nearly ninety years old, is still alive. Look at her face as bright as chrysanthemums. Once bright black hair, already bright as snow. The eyes that used to be gods have become turbid, and people have to walk in front to distinguish clearly. Even my favorite little daughter came up to her and shouted that she knew it was me. Seeing this, I always feel inexplicable sadness in my heart. In my spare time, I ride home in the morning light. Even if I knock on the door again and climb the tall house next door, I always shout, "Mom, Mom ..." I'm not worried about disturbing people at all, just to wake up my deaf mother who is still sleeping early. Look at her coming out of the door, wiping her eyes and getting dressed. She answered and opened the door for me. I walked in with a smile, carrying hot miscellaneous cakes bought for her from the county seat, holding her in my yard, waiting for my mother to wipe my sweat, only to feel tears are not obedient flowing out.
I am not easy to say old, because my old mother, who is nearly ninety years old, is still alive. Look at her face as bright as chrysanthemums. Once bright black hair, already bright as snow. The eyes that used to be gods have become turbid, and people have to walk in front to distinguish clearly. Even my favorite little daughter came up to her and shouted that she knew it was me. Seeing this, I always feel inexplicable sadness in my heart. In my spare time, I rode home in the morning light. Even if I knocked on the door again and climbed up the tall house next door, I kept shouting "Mom, Mom ..." I didn't have any worries about disturbing the people, just to wake up my deaf mother who was still sleeping early. Look at her coming out of the door, wiping her eyes and getting dressed. She answered and opened the door for me. I walked in with a smile, carrying hot miscellaneous cakes bought for her from the county seat, holding her in my yard, waiting for my mother to wipe my sweat, only to feel tears are not obedient flowing out.
My mother always insists on seeing me off when I leave. My old mother, who used to take me to the village entrance, can't walk far now. She always walks out of the house and sends me to the street. Even if she calls her back loudly again, she always stands stubbornly until I am far away. Children travel thousands of miles, my mother is worried, and my mother is old. I can't hold the hand of time. How many times can my mother send me back? The way she walks, I can't bear to brush my brain. Every time I see her standing at the door staring at me leaving. When I was a child, I always felt heartfelt pain every time I left.
Out of selfishness when I was a child, I couldn't bear to devour my mother's figure with time. I want to spend more time with her and enjoy a happy life without poverty. Out of selfishness as a mother, I don't want the years to pass faster because I don't want my son to grow up. Although he is an adult now, he is wandering in Beijing alone, doing his favorite career. When my son is not around, I think she will feel very painful sometimes. At night, I dreamed of his childhood and his hooligans following me. Once, that chubby kid, I took him to Shijiazhuang Zoo to see animals. He laughed and called out all kinds of names and made all kinds of faces. Take him outside to see the scenery, watch his curious eyes turn around, ask questions with a small mouth, and happily explain to him that he is not good at words. I think when he was very young, he painted the underwater world on the sand in the yard with branches. I think he once put his zodiac on TV ... The best innocence of a child is not only the best memory of his childhood, but also the happiest memory of my mother.
I don't want him to grow up at all, but I want to grow up with him again and save some of my failures and guilt as a mother. When children are in the third grade, it is the most confused period. Where did he get the money to guide his study? Colleagues responded that the child didn't do his homework in math. In the corridor in front of the classroom, he turned around and gave his beloved child a good beating. That was my most painful time, and it is also the one I regret so far. Since then, the child has never asked me this question as a mother. When I was in middle school, I watched him fall behind. I didn't analyze the reasons for falling with him, just let him rise and fall. In the first semester of the third grade, children's grades suddenly skyrocketed, which became a miracle of pushing and pulling students to change. People asked me why, but I didn't say it. I knew from the bottom of my heart that it was all the ambition in my child's bones. And this ambition of children has been maintained until high school, university, further study and employment. I am speechless about what role mother played in the growth of children.
Mr. Lao She wrote in the article Hen: "It has responsibility, love, courage and hard work, because it has a group of chickens. It's great because it's mother hen. Mother must be a hero. " Hens still love their young so much, let alone us. I haven't given him wind and rain skills yet. He has already flown with wings that are not full. Even if he falls badly, he will never return to my wings. Countless times, I have been looking forward to the reversal of light energy at this time, hoping to give me a chance to be a mother again, so that I can grow up with my children again and save my guilt. However, when will time satisfy my wish?
Walking slowly on the bank of years with a cavity of worry, holding the mother's hand here and looking at the son who is traveling there. ...