Father in Typhoon

  At 10 o’clock in the evening, the father who suffered a stroke and was discharged from the hospital returned home. Relatives from far and near came to visit as soon as possible. Everyone said what they thought could comfort their father. Several female relatives cried in their arms as soon as they walked in.
  The father was rather indifferent, with an indifferent look: “Isn’t this coming back, why are you crying?” After
  1 o’clock in the morning, the crowd finally dispersed, and his father showed a real and embarrassed appearance. After 3 months in the hospital, my father had become a little strange: Due to the need of surgery, his hair was cut short, his back seemed to be bent, his speech was vague, and he panted without saying a few words. In my memory, the father who always spoke very loudly and wanted to look like a gangster in front of relatives was gone.
  My father smiled and said to me, “It’s okay, it will be like before in one month.”
  I nodded and opened my mouth, not knowing how to answer. I knew in my heart that it was impossible.
  ”The motorcycle hasn’t been driven for so long, are you still there? When I’m ready, I’ll buy you another one. I will drive your mother, you and your sister, and we will go for a ride along the beach.”
  That is the only one in our family A group trip. My father also wanted to go back in time, back to when he was the pillar of the family.
  However, early the next morning, he fell. When my mother was going to buy vegetables, I heard a dull sound, jumped out of bed and rushed to his room when he was lying on the ground.
  I turned my head and pretended not to see his embarrassment, and tried to drag him desperately. At that time, I was about 100 kilograms, but I couldn’t drag him over 160 kilograms. He also tried desperately to help his son, but ultimately failed.
  He and I really felt the weight of the disease on him at the same time. He smiled and said: “Don’t worry, I’ll get used to it slowly.” He carefully propped up his right leg, groping for the balance he should have, and stood up hard, but he stood up straight, like a collapsed house. The ground dumped to the right. I rushed forward and carried him from the right, but his weight won, and we fell to the ground again, unable to say a word for a long time. In the end, it was my father who was struggling to mobilize the muscles on his face to smile at me, but that smile was finally distorted into an expression that I couldn’t describe.
  In the few days when my father came home, all family members seemed to realize that they were cooperating in a play. The main idea was to convey a kind of optimism, a kind of confidence in each other and the future, and then figure out their respective roles. And accurate lines.
  The mother is a resolute woman. When her father was defecate on the bed, she smiled and said, “Look, why are you like a child?” After laughing hastily, she turned around and went out to deal with the sheets sadly. The joke is not funny, but she must say it. After speaking, one person went to guard the gas station that had been closed for a long time-that was the livelihood of the whole family.
  The elder sister is a well-behaved daughter who has been working hard to fulfill her duties: feeding her father, massaging his paralyzed body, and helping her mother cook.
  And I, I know I should be the head of the quasi-family. Like a politician who is in desperate need of votes, he must be aware of the various delicate expressions of these people and the true mood behind the expressions, and then accurately allocate energy to appear next to them.

  Father thought he had found a way to recover.
  One night, he held me excitedly and told me that he understood that his left half of his body was not connected. “As long as I keep moving, and the blood rushes to the death, my partner will come back to life.”
  On the first day, he experimented with how long it would take to walk from home to the corner market. He was too late to come back for lunch. In the end, the three of us were divided into three ways and finally found him at the corner not far away. I walked there for about 20 minutes, but it was the result of him moving desperately for 6 hours in the morning.
  But he thought it was a good start. “At least I know where I am now,” he said.
  The next day, his plan came out: set off at 8 in the morning and walked back to the end of the alley, so that he could come back at 12 o’clock for lunch, after dinner, rest for 1 hour, set off at 1:30, and go. To the farther corner market, you can come back for dinner at 7 o’clock in the evening. At night, I stayed at home, insisting on standing and training to raise my left foot.
  Every night everyone would accompany him to do exercises of raising his left foot. This sport is often carried out in a family four-player competition. We let him win either intentionally or unintentionally, and then everyone slept tired but beautifully in celebration.

  From summer to autumn, my father began to realize that what should have happened did not happen: the left leg still only had a sense of control over the knee joint, and even, to his panic, the toes lost consciousness one by one.
  He is more demanding on time.
  On this day, according to the weather forecast, the first typhoon after his father fell ill was coming. I got up to close the door, but was stopped by my father: “Can’t close it, I’m going to go out later.”
  ”Why do I go out in a typhoon?”
  ”I want to exercise.” My
  father didn’t even eat any food, so he just took crutches. Move outside the door. I was anxious and wanted to grab the crutches. He took the crutches and hit me. The mother quickly got up and closed the door. The father roared and moved to the door step by step. He held a cane in his right hand to maintain his balance. His hemiplegic left hand tried to open the door, but he couldn’t open it.
  He started knocking on the door with crutches desperately, crying and cursing: “You are going to kill me! You don’t want me!” I was anxious, opened the door and said, “Go away, no one will stop you!”
  Father didn’t look at me. Move the clumsy body carefully. As soon as he left the house, the wind was wrapped in heavy rain and swept him down to the other side of the road like a leaf. I rushed forward to help him. He was obviously angry and pushed me away, struggling there alone.
  The mother walked over in silence, with her body against his left side, and he slowly stood up. His mother wanted to help him into the house, he arrogantly pushed his mother away and continued on.
  The wind came with rain covering the sky. His body trembled, like a bird in the rain, small and weak. The neighbors also came out, everyone yelled to let him go home. As if he hadn’t heard, he continued to move forward.
  A gust of wind blows and he falls again. The neighbor wanted to help him, so he pushed away. He gave up and stood up, lying on the ground, like a lizard, moving forward with
  his hands and feet… Finally, he was completely exhausted, and his neighbors helped him carry him home. However, after resting until 4 o’clock in the afternoon, he took his crutches and rushed towards the door.
  That day, he tossed like this 3 times. The next day, when the typhoon was still there, he didn’t want to go out or talk, and even he didn’t want to get up. Something in his heart was completely broken.

  The disease completely crushed him and released him at the same time. He didn’t pretend to be strong anymore, he would suddenly cry at his immobile arm number, he even took off his father’s identity and began to act like a child.
  When I go home from school, I can often see a group of elderly people sitting at the door, listening to them telling slightly exaggerated stories about my father. Or a different neighbor came to the house and complained to the mother that the father had quarreled with his child or puppy.
  Although my father was like a child, he pulled me away from traveling, but he finally accepted my decision to work in Beijing. I worked hard day and night for 3 years, and I saved nearly 200,000. I had a luxurious plan in my heart: In two years, I will send my father to the United States for medical treatment. I heard that there is a device there that can take out the valve that is stuck in his brain, and my father will be able to retrieve his left body. .
  Until that rainy evening, I suddenly received a call from my cousin.
  ——Father is gone. At around 4 pm, my mother went home and saw him fainted on the ground. She hurriedly asked her cousin to drive him to the hospital for emergency treatment, but on the road, he was no longer able to do so.
  After being moved home, it was already more than 11 o’clock in the evening. I couldn’t cry, I kept holding my father’s hand, which was cold and stiff. I couldn’t suppress my anger and cursed: “Why are you so useless? You are gone after a fall, don’t you want to die? Why don’t you keep your promise!” My
  father’s eyes and mouth suddenly flowed out of blood. . I pulled relatives said:. “The soul after death is still the body, so you trouble, he could not get away, will be sad to bleed water, his life has been difficult enough, let him go.”
  I watched in horror ever The gushing blood said softly like coaxing a child: “You go well, I don’t blame you, I know you worked very hard…” After coaxing, I finally couldn’t help crying.