Father’s long river

In the south of April, the smoke and rain are lingering.

The drip of the rain, like a gentle lullaby, the father leaned against the bamboo chair and seemed to fall asleep. I haven’t seen it for a long time, my white hair, some loose and faint faces, my heart trembles, my father is old.

The old house in my house is connected to the neighbor’s house. The upstairs is separated by bamboo rafts, and the lower part of the building is vacant, which becomes a narrow roadway. There is a large blue slate in the middle of the roadway. Listening to his father, there is a big snake hiding in the deep stone crevice below the bluestone slab. I often see the long snakeskin under the armpit. As the sapphire slate went up, it came to the hall that was in disrepair. At that time, the hall was the activity place for the whole village. The parents were short, and the listeners said that the old and the young, the spit and the noise, were noisy. I was one year younger than my brother, and when I slept, I became the father’s task. In the winter, it was early in the morning and I had dinner. My father wrapped my whole person in a patch of cotton jacket, and held my little ass firmly in my hands. Passing through the narrow alleyway, slowly squatting into the hall, looking for a small bench that is worn and screaming, and gently swaying back and forth, revealing me with a small head, as if sitting in a small rocking boat, curiously looking around. The uncles next door said hello to me, which pinched the touch. I am happy, picking up my eyes and giggling, not happy, crying and crying. At this time, the big brothers smiled at me “small ghosts”, and the father smiled and stood up, gently patted my back, my forehead pressed against my face, tied me with a soft beard, tickle me giggling After a while, the scene in front of me became blurred, and I fell into a dream. Every time I took it out of my arms, my little blush was blowing, my body was hot, and I could sleep sweetly! In an instant, I seem to have passed through that simple time, the dim hall, the little young daughter, the happy father, all so happy!

His father is sick, and his family is filled with Chinese medicine all the year round. We are small, relying on the mother to use the weak shoulders to squat, and get up early and greedy, facing the loess and facing the sky, even maintaining food and clothing is difficult. People are poorly deceived, and there are several elders in the family. They often have nothing to look for. They refer to the mulberry, cursing the father who has been taking medicine for a long time. People live a face, a tree to live a skin, my brothers and I can’t bear it. Many times I want to rush to work with those people, even if the fish are broken, we must defend our dignity. However, my father sternly swears at us every time, let us take care of nothing. I am very dissatisfied with my father, even laughing at myself, how can there be such a weak father? There was a broken scar between my father and I, and I didn’t want to take care of him. I even felt that it was a shame to talk to him. The daughter is like a father, and my father often looks at me and wants to stop. I glanced at him coldly and walked back without a head, and there was a heavy sigh behind him. One night, I just came back from the outside and saw my father drink a little wine, half a sip, ordered a cigarette, took a sip, my father stopped me, slowly said: “In your heart, the father is a The weak person is that I am tired of a family. Daughter, don’t I have temperament? What will change if I win the game? Instead of spending time with others, it is better to work hard. If you want to be in the first place, you need to bury yourself.” I was shocked and shocked, and the weak father even said such a loud voice. In an instant, I understood, and understood that my father had left the house early to go to the land, and understood that his father went to the village to sell small commodities. At that moment, my father was a “hero” in my heart. It was also because of the father’s forbearance that our family became a well-off home that the villagers envied.

In the 1980s, my father ran through the villages of Fuyang, Tonglu, and Jiande to sell chicken and ducklings. The four-layered bamboo duckling baskets, a pair of thousands of ducklings, bear a hundred pounds. The most impressive thing is that when I was eight years old, the night was deep, and my father, who had been away from home for seven or eight days, rushed back home with a downpour. Our sister-in-law is surrounded by the father who is wet all over. When my father left home for too long, we all missed him. Second, the sensitive nose also smelled a thick wheat flavor. Unable to change the clothes of the father, all of a sudden guessed our minds, while softly making fun of us only to eat, while smiling and took out a paper bag from the basket. I can’t wait to open the oil paper. After so many years, the rich wheat flavor still makes me fascinated. We all sneaked up and smelled it, pressed it with our hands, and it was soft. The crackling of the yellow is crispy, and there is still oily light on it. Carefully tear off the thin piece and rub it, then put it in the mouth and slowly melt it, slowly relish it, and dare not drop a little bit on the ground…

That is the father’s deep foot and feet, the wind is coming in the rain, and the hard-earned money exchanged from the village is bought!