For thousands of years, no matter a great man or a cloth, no matter a hero or a gangster, no matter a gentleman or a prodigal son. Make your heart higher than the sky, or have no ambition; Make you rich or poor. All along, behind them, there are always a pair of loving eyes behind them, there is always a love woven with feelings, and there is always a kind figure accompanying them-this is mother, maternal love.
Motherly love is kind, broad and broad. It is a beacon for children to fly at night, a coordinate for progress and a driving force for struggle. In the hot summer, it is a cool breeze that blows away fatigue; Cold winter is a warm-hearted cotton-padded jacket; In the long night, this is a comfortable bed ... the love between mother and child is hard to give up. Maternal love, no matter the ends of the earth. This is a special kind of love, a kind of endless love. Great love is seamless.
I have a lot to say in the face of mother and maternal love. But really, when I pick up the pen, I can't seem to find the right words to express it. Even though, I wrote some words about mother and maternal love, trying to express my inner feelings. But after reading it, I always feel so pale, so rough and so desolate. So, I gave up the desire to continue expressing, sealed my deep understanding and understanding of maternal love in my heart like aging, and only tasted it alone in the quiet night. ...
My mother is not a native. She was born in a big family full of books. Because of his decent family, grandpa worked in the education bureau at that time, and his mother could read and write like a normal boy at school. Later, she was admitted to South Sichuan Women's Normal School. Mother was born dignified and capable, kind-hearted, but rebellious. When I was in a normal school, influenced by the early progressive trend of thought, I actively participated in many public welfare activities organized by the school and lashed out at feudal traditional concepts such as performing civilized dramas on the street in an attempt to awaken the people.
It is said that she got married with her father because she boldly escaped the surveillance of her grandfather, took a boat alone in the early morning and secretly traveled, and finally became my mother.
It is more appropriate to talk about the father's family and the mother. However, at that time, his father's branch was already weak in the whole family, and even his life was relatively poor. Therefore, the combination of mother and father, with the concept at that time, is still a bit interesting.
But, my mother doesn't care. She likes her father's intelligence, studiousness and perseverance. She doesn't care what the world thinks, sees or understands, as long as she likes it. How powerful those gossips and stale social customs are to those who hinder two of a kind! After marrying their father, they all devoted themselves to the education industry. My father taught elementary school, junior high school and senior high school. My mother, on the other hand, has been engaged in primary education all her life and educated countless people.
Mother * * * gave birth to 13 children, but for various reasons, there are still 9 children growing up healthily. Even though there are many children, her love for all children is consistent and impartial. She often uses a metaphor-the back of her hand is full of meat. Whether the family is still well-off or poor, whether the children are young or have grown up, the mother has devoted her broad maternal love to every child from beginning to end.
However, as my mother always said: My mother loves her children and her own heart; The child loves his mother, and the shoulder pole is long. I didn't seem to feel any love for my mother when I was young and ignorant. Even as an adult, I am not only ungrateful, but also rebellious and disgusted with her persuasive and watertight traditional education. I always feel that she is nagging and too strict, so that she often conflicts with her mother's teaching. Especially when the mother is critically ill, taking care of her mother is not only careless, but even so impatient. I don't really feel the same way about my mother's painful groans, and I am deeply saddened. Therefore, the mother was not sent to a regular hospital for treatment in time, so that she was misdiagnosed by a quack and died. ...
Although I am sad, I regret it. But where can I find a bridge to bring my mother back to life?
There is an old saying that an adopted son knows his parents' kindness. For me, this is just an excuse to excuse me. Because, when I am ready to repay my kindness, my mother has been separated from me by Yin and Yang, and I can no longer serve at her old man's knees and show my meager filial piety.
Therefore, I can only recall my mother's voice and smile, her kindness and the sweetness of maternal love in endless regret and regret. ...
I remember that year in Na Yue, I was about to go to the vast rural areas to take root, blossom and bear fruit. At that time, my mother was old and had severe rheumatism and stomach trouble. In order to respond to the call and let me suffer less, my mother dragged the sick body with a bamboo pole. I found an acquaintance and contacted a production team that is close to the urban area and has relatively good economic conditions. And personally go to the production team leader's house where I am about to jump the queue to give gifts and contact feelings with a smile.
After jumping the queue in the countryside, because of the unbearable burden of farm work, he often ran home to avoid labor. Although my mother hates iron, she never forced me to return to China. Just patiently give me advice, point out the rewards that the actual work will bring me, and constantly cheer me up. Even though I often find such and such reasons to run home from time to time, I even stay at home to avoid labor. Even if the family's economic conditions were poor at that time, my mother would try her best to cook me a bowl of Sichuan-style pork for fear that I would collapse under the weight of farm work. Later, in order to get me back to the city smoothly, my mother even ran around with a long face and hit a wall on all sides, with great difficulty. ...
However, everything my mother did for me, in my mind at that time, never seemed to realize that it was the result of deep maternal love. On the contrary, I imagined what my mother did for me regardless of the cold wind. Sometimes, I even lose my temper and complain about my mother
Although I am willful and even rebellious. But my mother never took it out on me. On the contrary, your love for me will never change.
I remember the year before my mother died, with the gradual improvement of my family, my mother's mood became more and more cheerful. That year, she suddenly proposed to go to the home of three brothers and sisters who worked and lived outside. Only in this way can we let go of the heart that has plagued her for many years.
I remember when my mother went back to Chengdu's seventh sister's house from Jiuge, and I happened to be in Chengdu on business. Mother was overjoyed to hear that I was going. I remember when I walked into my seventh sister's house, the first thing I saw was my mother's kind smile and loving eyes.
Actually, my mother has been out for less than two months. However, my mother looked at me as if I hadn't seen her for years, so kind, so loving and so warm. ...
I'm going back when I'm done. My mother earnestly told me to be careful on the road. When I got home, I should immediately write a letter to report my safety ... Finally, I insisted on walking down the sixth floor to see me off on crutches, as if that goodbye was goodbye. ...
However, my mother passed away. I left in such a hurry, so sad, so lonely. ...
On my deathbed, my mother grabbed my hand and looked at me with loving eyes. Tintin told my sisters to take good care of your brothers. He's not married yet. Only he was my most uneasy stumbling block ... until I saw my sisters nodding their heads in agreement, my mother took a long breath easily and closed his kind eyes calmly. ...
My mother left me, stumbling and drifting away. However, I clearly see that the constant attention to children makes her look back, look back, look back again ... Her eyes are so sad, anxious and sad. ...
I beg the gods sadly, please slow down and don't take my mother away in such a hurry. Let me see my mother's kind face again, let me relive the warmth of maternal love, and let me tell my endless regrets and sadness again. ...
However, Yin and Yang are separated and incoherent.
Suddenly, I remembered my mother's teaching: children, faithfulness lasts forever, and poetry and books last forever. Don't forget, don't forget, don't forget. ...
Suddenly, I clearly felt that my mother's loving eyes penetrated the long dark road and condensed me! I was shocked, guilty and speechless. ...
But, I know. Motherly love asks for nothing in return, and it can't be repaid in a lifetime. Just, just holding this love carefully, gently blending that kind of eyes into my heart ... like storing aging, let it ferment in my heart, accumulate fragrance and condense forever. ...