Xi Murong's "My Mother Before" instead of missing your mother
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Kaier, who will be in fourth grade after the summer vacation, will start in the next few days Look at Sherlock Holmes. You can see him reading books attentively everywhere. Beside the wall, under the shade of a tree, or in the corner of a big sofa chair, my little boy has entered the strange and mysterious world of Sherlock Holmes. He had no time to pay attention to the people around him. However, occasionally he would suddenly call me loudly: "Mom, Mom." After I answered him, he stopped making any sound. Sometimes, when I was in another room and I didn't hear his call, he would come calling louder and louder, with a slight hint of anxiety and fear in his voice. When he saw me, he would smile. Without saying a word, he turned around and went back to read his book. I chased after him and asked him what he wanted from me. He said: "It's okay, just checking to see if you are here." I couldn't help but smile, this little boy! He must have been frightened by the plot in the book and refused to reveal it to me, so he had to return to the real world at any time to seek my company. As long as he knows that his mother is by his side, he will be more courageous to follow Sherlock Holmes on adventures again. Therefore, during these hot afternoons, I deliberately found things to do and walked around him. I felt very peaceful and knew that my little boy still needed my company. I was a happy mother. I used to think that my mother didn't love me. That's because I have always felt that I am the least worthy of love among the five children. I don’t have the intelligence and beauty of my two sisters, I don’t have the quietness, gentleness and lovability of my sister, and I’m not like my brother who is the only boy in the family. I am stubborn and suspicious, and I am really the redundant one in this family. However, I really hope that my mother can love me. How I longed to hear a gentle word and receive a gentle caress from her. How I longed for my mother to hold me tightly in her arms and say to me, "You are my most beloved baby." However, my mother has always been a silent woman. From the time I can remember, I have always followed my grandmother, and my mother never seemed to hug me. She always holds her sister or brother in her arms and smiles at me from a distance. I never seem to be able to get close to her. When I grew up, sometimes I felt unwilling to give in, so I would think of some roundabout questions to ask my mother, hoping to get some proof from her that I also had merits and was worthy of love. However, my mother always smiled and refused to answer my strange questions. When I asked urgent questions, she would scold me gently: "Idiot, I gave birth to all of them, how could I be partial?" I sometimes act like a spoiled child. I lay beside her as if, hoping that she would turn around and hug me or kiss me. However, no matter how I pestered her, hinted at her, or even begged her with a playful smile, my mother never gave me any enthusiastic response. She would always say: "Don't make trouble! You are such a big person, and you are not afraid of others seeing it." I'm laughing at you!" Every time I quietly left her and quietly retreated to my own corner, there would always be a familiar uneasiness and resentment in my heart that would not go away for a long time. Until I had a child myself. During the first few months after the baby was born, he lived with his mother and learned how to take care of the baby. One day, my mother put a soft hat on my child to protect her from the wind. The pink brim was decorated with tiny flowers, which made my child's face look more like a warm and fragrant rose. My mother suddenly laughed: "Rong Rong, come and see, this little guy is exactly the same as you were when you were a child!" After saying that, she took my child, my fragrant and soft little baby, into her arms and kissed her hard several times. Down. I was standing at the door of the room at that time, feeling as if I had received a heavy blow in my heart. I felt sad and happy at the same time. The thing that I long for so much, the thing that I have been asking for but never been able to get satisfied, my mother gave it to me from the beginning! But why did it take so many years for me to know and understand? Why is it arranged like this? When I pack my desk or suitcase, Ci'er likes to stand by and watch, because sometimes some items she likes will come out. If she begs softly, I will probably give it to her. Sometimes it was a Spanish fan, sometimes it was a beautiful notebook, sometimes it was a string of glass beads. After she got it, she would always be ecstatic, as if she had found a treasure. This day, she came to see the fun again. I was sorting out the old photo albums. She picked up an enlarged photo and asked me: "Who is this?" "This is mom! I participated in a dancing competition in Europe." The photo from the first moment! "Nonsense! How can you do the ribbon dance?" The dancer in the photo is standing in the middle of the stage, waving two long ribbons. The face behind the makeup is one part shy and one part proud. "It's me! At that time, not long after I arrived in Belgium, I participated in the international student dance competition organized by the University of Leuven. I was the protagonist, and there were eight other female classmates dancing with me. We..." Before he said anything, After that, her classmates came roaring toward me on bicycles outside the window, calling her name loudly. My daughter jumped up and answered loudly toward the window: "Coming! Coming!" Then she turned around and waved her hand to me. He ran out happily.
I walked to the door and happened to see the backs of these girls. They were just junior high school students, but they all grew taller and bigger and rode very fast. I still hold that photo in my hand. In fact, I still have a lot to say to my daughter. I want to tell her how we rehearsed seriously, how we took care of each other during the performance, and how the male classmates excitedly cooked us snacks and took pictures around us when we found out we had won first place; in fact, it was just a It was just a small on-campus activity, but because it was named after a Chinese student, it won first place among more than 20 countries. This group of Chinese students were closely connected and lived a very happy life. It's night. I really want to tell my daughter these happy memories, but I don't have the chance. It was she who was talking excitedly and enthusiastically at the dinner table. There were so many interesting and important things to say between her and her classmates that I couldn't get in the middle of the conversation. All night long, I could only smile at her from a distance. Taiwan's household register can be a very warm thing, or it can be a very ruthless thing. Everyone's movements and every move in and out are carefully recorded on it, which is both trivial and lengthy. After living in the same place for a long time, there is too much information, and some attachments will be attached to the original book, which is very troublesome when taking it in and out. Our household registration book in Xinbeitou back then was just like that. I miss that now because that excitement is no longer coming back. A few years ago, my mother often went abroad to visit various places. Sometimes she stayed with her father, sometimes she stayed with her sisters, and occasionally she would stay with her younger brother for a few months. The procedures for these visits changed frequently. , they would write back and ask me to go to the household registration office in Xinbeitou to apply for a copy of the household registration for the entire household. Each time, they would write at the end of the letter: "Apply for a few more points, don't lose it." Because we have all moved out and the house has been sold to others, all the information on our household has been collected, leaving only a file number. When I apply, I report that number, and the household registration officer will find the old and yellowed file and make a photocopy for me. Only then could I see my old home again, those dear names, and all the tender memories that were almost forgotten that followed those dear names back. I think I might be able to understand my mother's mood when she always wants me to apply for more transcripts. Because her current household registration book is very clean and simple. After her mother returned to China, she lived opposite my house and formed her own household. Therefore, there was only the name of the head of the household on the household registration book. The entire household register contains only my mother's name. After analyzing the condition in detail to me, the doctor suddenly said to me in a particularly gentle tone: "No matter what, it is absolutely impossible for you to be the mother you were before." The doctor was about the age of He is also over sixty, well-dressed, has a gentle temperament, and has the wisdom and insight unique to the elderly. After he finished saying this, there was a very short pause, as if he knew that at this time I should have started to cry. However, I wasn't fooled, I just refused to be fooled, and I didn't let it show even a single tear. I won't be fooled easily. In this world, there are some things you can believe in. Some things are absolutely unbelievable. Never shed tears. A tear means that you believe what he said. A tear means that you also admit that the facts cannot be changed. Although my mother suffered another stroke, since she has overcome the severe illness last time and can stand up again, who dares to say that she will not be able to recover this time? Who dares to tell me that I will never be as strong and happy as before? I bowed coldly to the doctor and thanked him, and then returned to my mother's bedside. My mother is currently in a sleepy state after a stroke, and she should gradually get better in a few days. After you feel better, you can start doing rehabilitation exercises. As long as you maintain confidence, there should be no problems. Her father and sisters all made long-distance calls and said they would come back to be with her as soon as possible. I think this doctor didn't know my mother very well and didn't know her strength and perseverance, so he made such a wrong conclusion to me. At night, I left the hospital and drove home alone. I was still thinking about what the doctor said during the day. Suddenly, something flashed through my mind. I was stunned by this sudden thought. Lived.
What the doctor said is actually not wrong! That mother from before, that mother from before, what the doctor said was actually not wrong! Days pass by, and the mother from before is changing day by day, and she has never been able to come back! Which one is my former mother? Before the second stroke, in the countryside of Shimen, where was that old lady with white hair holding a stick in her left hand? Or a little earlier, before the first stroke, when she and her husband were reunited in Europe, where was that luxuriously dressed woman at a friend’s Christmas dinner? Or earlier, where was the mother who stood with her children on the grass in front of her home in Xinbeitou, her smile still tender? Or a little earlier, in a photo studio in Nanjing, where was the young woman who was smiling at the camera with her just one-month-old baby in her arms, surrounded by her husband and children? Or earlier, what about the woman who was in the fields of Chongqing countryside, hurriedly avoiding enemy air raids, while worrying about not scaring the children around her or crushing the fetus in her belly? Or earlier, earlier, in an old yellowed photo, wearing a long black woolen coat with a leather collar, standing in a snowy yard in Peiping, where is the girl with dark and bright eyes? Or earlier, earlier, I just heard about it inadvertently, about the little girl of about ten years old on the Mongolian prairie, who loved to pick up some round stones on the river bed and go home to play? My former mother, my former mother! The days passed like this day by day. For our five children, those mothers in the past were left behind day by day and never came back! Of course, the mother I am now can recover, but I will never be the mother I used to be. "Mom, Mom." On the highway late at night, I gently called out to my mother who had smiled tenderly at me in the past years. All my mothers in the past who could never come back made me cry uncontrollably.
The car was driving very fast, and the road was so dark!