Unforgettable mercy in this world

There is a kind of pain in the world, which is “the child wants to raise but not to kiss”. In the blink of an eye, her mother has been dead for 25 years, and her voice and expression suddenly appeared before my eyes, deeply imprinted in my heart, unforgettable.

It’s hard to precipitate long memories in the days when the waves are not scared. Looking back at my mother’s unfortunate experience, it seems that the sky is full of tears, the road carrying the vision suddenly sinks into the mud, and it has been chewing up the bitter taste.

The mother was born in a big family, the oldest member of the family, known as “Yaomei”. Since childhood, she has been cared and loved by her family and spent a carefree and coquettish teenage period. Affected by her family style, she was literate, elegant, and smart. After she was an adult, with her longing for a better life, she married my father, a gentleman with the same culture and insight, and formed a happy little family. At the beginning, my father was working outside, and my mother was orderly in the farming field. She was busy with the livelihood of the pot in front of the stove, serving the elderly and frail elderly, and caring for the wailing children. With his father’s salary income and mother’s hard work and thrift, although his life is hard, he is also suffering.

Unexpectedly, his life was long and his father was sick in his middle age. At first he didn’t care much, so he returned to his hometown and worked as an accountant on the farm. In just a few years, my father’s condition was getting worse and worse, and he was sick and bedridden. The mother sought medical advice and care from time to time, and failed to stop the fate of doom. She watched her 42-year-old husband run dry and let go.

The cruel fact of the middle-aged widowed mother made her desperate. She is still dreaming of looking for medicines of famous doctors, so that her husband can magically restore health, and continue to live a life of mutual affection. She is still trying to wake her husband and ask him how he has the patience to leave the elderly mother, the young child and the helpless wife, and walk to Huang Quan who will never return home.

At that time, I was just ten years old, three brothers and sisters, nothing less, did not fully understand the sorrow and consequences of my father’s death. I knew I was going to eat when I was hungry, and shouted for clothes when I was cold. Obviously, I did n’t realize that my mother was suffering from the helplessness and sadness of her heart.

After cooking his father’s affairs, his mother suddenly felt sick. The cheeks became thinner and paler, like the barren land invaded by frost, and there was no trace of fresh green and life. The active women who used to dress and sing and dance disappeared, and the scene of smiling and humming children’s songs to coax the younger siblings to sleep disappeared. Trance, silence, forbearance, and busyness fixed her figure. Sometimes I was dazed alone, sometimes weeping, sometimes Wu Geng got up to do housework, trying to use quiet work to transfer and dilute the sadness of the sudden loss of loved ones.

Sad life will produce the illusion of time freezing. My father’s tomb turned into old soil, and vine grass grew out of it, as if it had gone through a long time. On the first day of my father ’s death, my mother went to town to buy back the straw paper, and taught me how to seal it, so that I could write it in accordance with the established format passed down from my ancestors. “You have to memorize this format carefully. It was written by your father in the past, and you have to rely on you in the future!” The mother took the scene of my brother, sister and my sister on the grave. The retired children, hanging in front of the desolate tomb, bowed their hands and knelt. The blank paper watched the burning paper money until the last ignition star was extinguished, and the paper dust was blown away by the cool breeze before leaving reluctantly.

In memory, that visit to the grave was more solemn than any later. When we went, our mother took us very slowly; when we returned, we obviously accelerated our pace. Perhaps, she has clearly realized that washing her face with tears all day long can not wash away the pain of the broken liver and intestines, nor can she walk out of the quagmire of difficult life. After breaking her heart and breaking the family’s financial resources, she must face it alone: ​​the three children in front of her, an old man, and a bill that is in debt …

“Women are weak, but mothers are strong.” The mother is like an ordinary boat with many winds and waves and reef vortices. It is difficult to carry the whole family and young children, and strives to sail to the other side of hope.

The burden was heavy like a mountain, and the mother quietly provoked the difficult years at home with her weak shoulders. As a mother and a child, she has to eat, drink and go to school, leaving her exhausted. As a daughter-in-law, she took care of her elderly mother-in-law and resolved her bereavement. As a widow, her husband’s illness left a debt that made her sleepless …

Perhaps, after going through vicissitudes and being tempered, it becomes stronger. In the face of difficulties and pressure, she did not escape or compromise. At that time, she did not lack the opportunity to “turn one step”. At the age of only 40, she knew knowledge, sang and danced, got farmland and got a stovetop, and there were many people who came to ask for a matchmaker. But no matter how others persuade, there is no idea of ​​remarrying. She may have understood that hope and anxiety are often twin brothers, and because of hope, she feels anxious. Never want to avoid the burden of life, let the family embark on a so-called “short-cut” with uncertain future.

Fragments of my memory are always combined into a picture: mother wearing plain black or blue clothes, holding a bun, holding her head, although there is no smile on her face, there is no lack of perseverance at the feet, holding the child in one hand, helping the in-laws in one hand, no return Trek in the miserable wind and rain of life.

After losing her husband, the mother regards herself as a man standing on the ground, companionships with difficulties, and runs for survival. During the day, sowing, raising seedlings, watering, harvesting, or cutting grass uphill, collecting wood, collecting herbs, and picking fruits. Sooner or later, or bring water to prepare meals, feed pigs to raise silkworms, or accompany the old son, clean house. From morning till night, it is busy all the time, and the adult calendar is exhausted.

My home is in the hills and the house is near Tian Chou. The family of the old and the young, typical labor-and-weak households, went out to climb hills and climbed all over their shoulders. For a family’s livelihood, she usually gathers once a week, carries a basket full of raw materials, and exchanges shopping in the town more than ten miles away. The trails are rugged, the slopes are steep, and the rocks are stretched all the way. It is quite difficult to find a place to rest and rest, not to mention the limited time, and the rush to come and go, there is no time to rest. She often clenched her teeth, her legs and feet twitched, and she was sweating, two tears, and the sweat was accompanied by tears, and the tears followed the sweat and climbed up step by step. Especially on rainy days, every step you take, your toes must be tightly gripped on the road surface, even in the mud. Load-bearing climbing slopes, even if you have a strong eyebrow, will be sweaty and overworked. As a woman who is not physically strong, her hardship can be imagined. Today, I clearly remember the back of her difficult walking on this mountain road, arching her spine, moving her feet, walking the long time, the road is far away, the footsteps are still growing, accompanied by our brothers and sisters grown up, accompanied by her blue change Cheng Huafa.

As the eldest son in the family, I can more or less appreciate the difficulties of my mother. But after all, he was young, even if he was conscious, he could do nothing, and he couldn’t share much for her after all. Only eating less food at the table and drinking more soup, a piece of clothing is too replenishing and reluctant to throw, a pencil is too short to hold and insist on using, learning more focused and continuous efforts. Everything in the family requires her to work hard and personally. Looking back at the past, there is often helplessness, self-blame, guilt, and sadness.

Mother’s love is like a tearing wax torch that burns itself, illuminates the night sky of life, and guides us from forcing a man to a room. On the way to school, difficulties recurred and difficulties occurred every time. Unless she tried hard, I would have given up long ago.

In the fifth grade of primary school, I suffered from edema due to malnutrition. Taking into account the dilemma of a difficult family, he was even more despondent and was planning to drop out of school. Dropping out of school to go home, although unwilling to be willing; adding family burden, but unbearable. So I said as calmly as possible: “Mom, your family is so poor, you are so tired all day long, I will drop out and come back to be a helper!” Three years of hard time, it is not uncommon for people to starve to death, but my mother treats my cause She blamed her incompetence. While blaming herself, she cheered me up and shattered the truth. She patiently persuaded me to return to school.

At that time, I was confused, how can I understand the mother’s good intentions? She suffered from the hardships of life, and knew a ignorant person. Her vision and insights were confined in a deep well, and she could only see the sky of a limited side. It was inevitable that she would suffer numbness and mediocrity. She singled out the heavy burden of the family and contained the deep sustenance, that is, I hope that I can continue to go to school without a heart, go better, and not repeat her hardships.

Soon after returning to school, I was faced with the embarrassing situation of quitting school again due to tuition arrears. If I still had the idea of ​​improving my family’s situation through hard work, this time, I was almost desperate and my heart was still standing still. Thinking that this might be my destiny, my father died young in his early years, and my family was in poverty. I spent money to study, increased my mother’s burden, and worsened the destitute family.

My mother decisively denied my idea. She, who loved her face and did not ask for help, ran two families to raise tuition fees. A mistress of the family said that she had no money and touched the nail directly; another wealthy person expressed enthusiasm, but worried about the ability to repay, politely declined.

She dragged her tired feet back to her home. She burst into tears but squeezed a smile. She said softly to me, “You go back to the teacher and ask the school to stay for three days. We must pay the tuition. “Then we turned around and raised our hands to wipe the tears, and said firmly:” This difficult situation can pass, Mom will have a way. ”

With nowhere to borrow money, my mother decided to “fell away” and sell the floor of the bedroom and study. This house embodies the efforts of parents and carries the memory of life. It is an old and sheltered shelter from the wind and rain, and is a family symbol left by his father. It is also the physical evidence that the mother misses the space outline of her father and pines her grief. Every time a floor was removed, the mother was tearing and tearing several times, and said repeatedly: “This is some good wood!” Three points of reluctance, seven points of frustration, the regret in my heart overflowed with words. After the floor was sold, she immediately changed her face, her face was calm, and the thin banknotes with the remaining temperature, Zheng replayed into my little palm. This matter is gone, Wan yesterday, the scene calendar, memory is fresh. Especially the squeaking sounds of dismantling the floor, the sound is harsh, the sound is broken, the sound is cone-shaped!

When I was in junior high school, I needed to bring my bedding to live on campus. There are no ready-made fabrics and no money to buy at home. My mother did not hesitate to cut open her dowry fabric and sew new quilt cover and small pillowcase for me. In the custom of the hometown, the dowry is a precious item of a woman’s life, and the mother-in-law who lives next to her right will not use it easily no matter how difficult the life is. Opening the lid of the box and holding out the dowry of “pressing the bottom of the box” is like pulling out a happy past from the difficult years, so that a ray of innocence, a hint of sweetness, and a sense of pride. But for me to read, my mother spared no effort to cut her sweet youthful memories into pieces and traces.

What can’t be compensated is that when the ignorant teenager didn’t understand all the connotations of the mother’s dedication, but when he really understood the deep meaning of maternal love, he had no chance to start feeling from his heart.

Perhaps the greatest regret for being a son of a man is nothing but love for motherhood. The mother loves the child, and the road comes long; the child loves the mother, and the pole is long. The mother is alive, no matter how old she is, she always feels that she is a child. When the mother passed away, she suddenly awakened: the mother’s deep contribution to her children is like a “three springs”, infinitely warm and infinitely long; the children’s care for the mother is nothing more than a “heart of grass”, too many shortcomings, too many owes.

For children, the mother is the first teacher in life, and the mother’s mind is a warm classroom. She not only nurtures our growth, but also moisturizes our hearts and becomes more tenacious in the midst of hardships.

Stepping into adulthood and looking back, it may be difficult for me to have a chance to see the outside world if my mother is not infected and supported by her faith. On school nights, I often stared at a ray of moonlight that penetrated through the window, reminding my mother of my thoughts and reverie: At this time, is she packing up after the soup, or is she preparing to rush to the scene early? Do you wash your clothes by the well, or sew the old clothes under the kerosene lamp? Are you cooking tomorrow’s vegetable bran, or are you worried about the future ration? Are you persuading your younger sister’s doubts, or are you calculating long-term debts? … to enter into dreamland in this miss, feel her charity in the dream, gaze at her two temples …

During middle school, no matter how busy my mother was, she would take the time to meet me at the school. This may be the most pleasant moment in the process of her frustration and difficult housekeeping. The classmate told her that I took the first overall score in the class again, and the grade was among the best; the teacher told her that the child was both good at school and good at school, and was selected as the class leader and the student union student minister. She listened to the news carefully and seriously every time, and then retell and verify with me afterwards. Seeing that I nodded, she was so relieved that her always-locked frown appeared, and a pale smile appeared on her pale face.

Things in the world, people in the world; life way, people realize themselves. I suffer from hunger, staring at Venus at home, and never fight for food with my siblings; the supply of rations at school is reduced, the shortage is less, and I never say hungry in front of my family. During the holidays, they go to the mountains to dig tree bumps, pick them up and sell them at the market, and make up for their homes. Do n’t forget to write to your younger brother when you leave school to draw a picture, so that when you grow the land, you can reasonably match the variety and use the limited space to increase the source of family life. Occasionally, she would praise me for being reasonable and seeking improvement. But perhaps I do n’t know: I secretly worked hard to stand for survival, to dilute the troubles of the weak branches, to dilute the sigh of the sunset, not to languish in predicament, not to sink into sorrow, stemming from her direct confrontation with hardship and perseverance.

I often think of my mother’s promise that “people are not dead”. The debts left after the death of his father were not urged. Or it is futile to consider my family ’s inability to repay it; or to sympathize with her middle-aged widowhood, and it is not easy to keep a house alone, and to dispel the idea; or because she never owes others the little habits of doing things and a person ’s image, has won the sincere trust of friends and family. Although others did not urge, the debt was still like a heavy stone, pressing on her heart; paying off the debt as early as possible has always been her dream. She always admonishes us with a long-term focus: people’s hearts are connected, and truth is exchanged; feelings are mutual, and heart is exchanged. Only when you are down can you see the true heart; in the wind and rain, you can see the true feelings.

Time, precipitate true emotions; poverty, test honesty. She sometimes confessed: the sentiment of others in the snow must remember to repay; the promise when she asked for help must be fully fulfilled. As I grew older and my knowledge increased, I understood my mother’s pragmatism, honesty, and kindness. In order to work early, I lived up to the expectations of several major teachers, gave up my dream of studying at university, and resolutely applied to the secondary school. After graduating from work for two years, she paid the money back from house to house according to the bills left by her father, but she finally got what she wanted. Because one of them moved away from the original site in her early years, she was unable to find her, and she owed a historical debt of 20 yuan. She still repeated nagging when she was ill in her later years.

I remember the day when the debt was paid off, my mother smiled with tears in her eyes, it was the tears after the relief. When I think about this, I feel sore and a little solace in my heart: I learned to work, first to pay back the debts, abide by the bottom line of integrity. Smiled. A smile is like a ripple, and I feel happy in my heart.

Happiness in the world is better than shouting “Mom” and getting a timely response. The pain in this life is more than trying to do a little bit of filial piety for his son, but he has lost his chance. When the mother is alive, she can still look forward to the edge of the painful life; when her mother dies, she can only remember the kindness in her guilt.

Entering the city to live with me, my mother failed to enjoy the blessing, just like the sunset after the autumn, flashing afterglow. My wife and I are busy with work all day, and the heavy tasks of housework and helping grandchildren fall on her shoulders. Or get up early, scrub diapers, and warm milk; or accompany grandson, hug and pat, and sleep; or carry honeycomb, wash vegetables, and cook, tired and sore in the back … Young, just like an umbrella covering us Cover; older, it ’s like taking care of our nanny. Like many careless sons, they are accustomed to their mother ’s busy work all day long, and gratitude is buried in the bottom of her heart, but there are few words of gratitude. I am used to my mother’s tenacity and strength. I assume that she suffers from illness at the time, which stems from the torment of a long and poor life, which is caused by the aging.

At that time, was the disease lurking in the mother’s body and laying the root cause of the grim? There is no way to check, it is difficult to know. In my later years, my mother was more reticent than before, but I was attentively attributed to the character of working quietly and having little gossip in my life. The pain of cutting the skin and the regret of the heart are the failure to be sent to the hospital for medical examination in time.

Many regrets in life all stem from the paralysis in the process; the years are unbearable, and there is no chance to repay. Thinking about my mother ’s old age, I really hate to understand it too late. She should be eager for the joy of heaven and earth around her children and grandchildren, looking forward to often having the opportunity to reminisce with her children, waiting for me from time to time to talk to her and talk about joy and sorrow. As for me, I am busy with work, get greedy in the morning, and often just say hello when I go home. Sometimes I even save greetings, so I hurriedly go from the dining table to the desk, or read the newspaper, or read the book, or read the text. Being in the same house, close at hand, but letting her this simple, simple hope was unexpected. Lambs kneel and breastfeed, and Ciwu feeds back. Every time I think about it, I am ashamed. If life can come back, I will surely value her gradual stepping into old age, recognizing the cruelty of not living in years and being difficult to buy “short time”, paying attention to her as an ordinary old man, not seeking good food, Fearing the need for loneliness and loneliness, I will definitely spare time to accompany her, and in the process of “securing my old age”, I will do my due duty to the Son of Man. It’s a pity to ignore the beginning and regret it too late.

Eternal life is unforgettable in 1993. That year, the mother’s body changed day by day, and we failed to notice in time. Invisible sickness, biting her, hurting her, and ruining her day and night, in order to worry about distracting our work energy, she kept silent and forbeared. We didn’t even realize that she was falling rapidly towards a bottomless black hole, perhaps knowing that the suffering of the world was coming to an end, and a long-lost relief appeared on her face. When our dull and careless children noticed something bad and repeatedly persuaded her to be admitted to the hospital, the doctor’s diagnosis was like a thunderbolt on a sunny day-my mother had stomach cancer!

After my mother’s operation, because of my work relationship, I still couldn’t get away to stay with me in the hospital. I had to rush to visit after work. Every time I visit, it is a bitter suffering for me, because except for “seeing” and “looking”, I seem so helpless. On the pale sickbed, the thin and weak mother, even if it hurts so much, never groaned. She has undertaken all her life, endured all her life, at the end of life, still decent silence, against the ruthless fate.

Sitting in the hospital bed, I pretended to be calm and shed tears in my heart. I wish I could be sick for my mother, pain for my mother, and suffer this live crime for my mother. I even asked resentfully: God, are you kind? Why can’t you hear the sincere, painful guilt of a son who is remorseful? Why should we take her life so ruthlessly when we understand that we should honor her well?

The mother has devoted a whole life for us, the flesh and blood body, with hardship and bitterness; drip time, nurturing children and grandchildren. How can I forget her love and kindness, her cheerfulness and atmosphere, her hardship and strength? In the difficult survival, what can I share, in addition to eating a half full and secretly saving, I failed to take the responsibility of comforting my mother and caring for my siblings in time, I am ashamed to my mother! What can I do to keep going to school? In addition to studying hard and striving for the mother, I failed to think concretely and practise myself to alleviate the worries of housekeeping. I am ashamed of my mother! What can I take care of in the caring years? In addition to working hard and persuading him to take care, I am ashamed of my mother for failing to feel the one-dimensional nature of time and the reality of the physical and mental changes of the elderly! Between the yin and the yang, the time never returns, there is no chance to be beside the mother, and the inner peace can no longer be suppressed …

Young people have ideals, and there are no drafts in life. The meaning of the path of life traversed is that it can withstand time and look back. “The Book of Songs” has a cloud: “Fathers give birth to me, and mothers give birth to me.” They also said: “Sorrow parents, give birth to me.” To repay? Yes, the mother is there, there are still places in life; when the mother is gone, life is only home. My heart mourns for three lifetimes.