Don't cry, son.
Let's hold hands.
* * * Resist disasters
Your sadness has broken countless hearts tonight.
Don't cry, son.
Let me wipe the tears from your face.
Don't cry, son.
Learn to be strong from an early age.
Ruins can bury bodies.
But it cannot bury the unyielding soul of our nation.
Don't cry, son.
We are your next of kin.
When the light is rekindled
In a warm home
Child, your faint smile
Will hold up tomorrow's sun
-Poems from my father
This is a poem written by my father in 2008. I didn't understand it then. Today, after finishing my father's book and reading this poem, I burst into tears! This is what my father wrote to the disaster, and it is just right to read it to me now. My father's departure is a disaster for me!
"Throw it higher, Dad, Dad, I want to throw it higher." My father picked me up and threw me into the air. I laughed and shouted loudly, but I didn't have any fear, because I knew that with my father, I would never fall down. This is my earliest memory of my father. Later, I went to primary school, and my father personally picked me up every day. At that time, the family conditions were not good. I sat on the front beam of an old bicycle without a back seat, snuggling up to my father's generous chest, quietly listening to his whistling, whistling beautifully, walking through the streets in the creaking sound of wheels and the sunshine. In countless such mornings, noon and dusk, that kind of quiet and warm happiness will always be engraved in my memory.
When I was in junior high school, I stayed in school for the first time. I feel homesick and pretend to go to Lacrimosa every day. During military training, I suddenly saw my father wandering outside the guardrail. That figure has been with me since the military training. In August, he was very afraid of the heat ... from a distance, I watched him put out one cigarette and lit another. I always remember that feeling. On the playground, many classes train together. I don't know if he can see me, but I think he can definitely see me. I am nearsighted, but I can clearly recognize my father. I think it's a connection between my relatives. I didn't ask my father about it, because I knew the answer must be yes.
When I was a child, my father bought me a bottle of milk and two sausages every morning, which was a daily routine. I live on campus in junior high school, but because of physical reasons, I have to go home to drink Chinese medicine every day, so my father starts to pick me up at 7: 00 in the morning and 9: 30 in the evening, and my father has been accompanying me to pick me up. After a long, long time, I have been thinking, maybe God knows, it will take my father far away, let me have a serious illness and spend more time with my father. After my father left, I heard from my mother that my father once said that he would spoil me for life and be my forever umbrella. He said that when I got married, he would take my hand and personally send me to that blessed smelly boy, asking him to spoil and love me. ...
A few days before my father left, it was Father's Day. Girls seldom confess to their fathers when they grow up. On Father's Day, my father sent me to school as usual. On the way, FM 102.4 played the song "Father". I wanted to sing this song to my father, but I was a little shy, so I posted it on his QQ for him to listen to. Later, when I looked through the computer, I found that he had heard this song and kept it in a folder.
It was a sultry summer, an unforgettable memory, and the day I want to forget most. In the morning, I told my father to see me off. Later, I was in a hurry and my mother sent me to school. It was a gloomy day, not midsummer, but disturbing, and my heart was blocked inexplicably. At the beginning of the second class, the class teacher told me to go home and said that my father was in hospital. A terrible fear attacked me, my tears fell, and I ran to the playground in confusion. On the way, my uncle drove me. Although I repeatedly asked my father what had happened, he refused to say a word. The school is close to the hospital, but a few minutes' journey is as long as years. When I got to the hospital, I went into the emergency room and saw my father lying there quietly. I even secretly pleased: nothing, dad is still here, he is lying there waiting for me to wake up! But when I reached out and held my father's warm hand, it gave me a cold temperature, and I never want to feel this way again in my life. Father left quietly like this! Without a word or warning, I left! At that moment, I felt that the sky was falling. I sat on the floor of the emergency room, crying all over. I kept calling my father, but I couldn't hear his promise, even though I wasn't breathing. But I clearly feel that he didn't leave, he just lay there quietly! He was so tired that he fell asleep. I called him, but he didn't answer. He lay there mercilessly, motionless, like a piece of wood … At that moment, I wished it was just a dream, but it wasn't! On the way home, in my father's car, I saw the usual bottle of milk and two sausages on the co-pilot.
Five years of life and death, unforgettable and thoughtless!
The time when my father left, I still dare not recall or face it, but it has been lingering in my heart. Only those who have experienced life and death know how painful it is. Dad left in a hurry and our time together was too short. My father is not old, and I have not grown up, just like the curtain call at the beginning of the movie.
After my father left, I really realized the meaning of "the tree wants to be quiet but the wind does not stop, and the son wants to raise it without waiting for his relatives." Really feel the bitterness and suffering of missing, the heartbreak and helplessness of losing, and the desperate powerlessness that you miss someone and will never see again in this life is the most exhausting!
I had a dream about my father. He took me by the hand and sent me to school, telling me to study hard. He watched me go to school at the door. I looked back and he was looking at me! I always believed that he was by my side and never went far.
(Author: Nangong No.1 Middle School in Xingtai, Hebei)