Life is like a busy Long Street, friends, relatives, lovers come and go, the shuttle in the crowd, the end is lost in the crowd. Only parents, hand in hand until dusk fell silent still behind. You removed the ups and downs, when I look back exclaimed, "So you are in the" Minzui smile, the word is not the word.
The memory of his father's youthful appearance is very vague. Month, three-quarters of the time working in the field, he came back to back to the room to sleep. I rarely speak with him on, it can only often slipped into his room, he looked asleep filled with curiosity and excitement. Mom said, when I just remember, I asked my father to hug each home, I will go back to him crying. I, does not even remember him.
Perhaps this experience at a young age, so my father always full of guilt, that thereafter my father to give me all sorts of time spoiled. The father said his daughter to eutrophication, so he always bought me a lot of things, and never bored. He will take the time with me every weekend, all kinds of things that did not exchange even though each of us sitting on a couch. He will pull out every time my hand and full of joy, whether I was ten, fifteen, or twenty. He did not promise me Cantabile vigorous pride, but it is steady and silent spend leave.
Plus honors young body, stay with me forever is the mother, while running in the teacher, but the leadership between the father. Rebellious trouble again and again, lift the stick is always the mother, and I deal with troublesome night as it is the father. Often wrong exam, cheering is always the mother, but quietly struggle with me stay up all night is the father.I only remember that he love
chrome hearts.
More frivolous teenager, his father began as usual. If the child is flying, his father is the man pulling the kite string. Anyway the sky wide sea, we drown in the blue sky, there is always a person to know of our existence.
Dear father, you have not missed my life. Although your photo album rarely, but I am very happy to have you holding the camera to take pictures of me; though your parents played very little, but I am very happy to have you driving a car so I came out; though the stations in your words few, but I am very happy to have you stand to see me leave in place ......
You once said that I will always be in front of you twelve-year-old girl. Mottled shade of memory film, you look at the road running, I already know, one day, your little girl will leave you running the world. How you hope I never grow up, but also how eagerly hope I grow up. The most time is relentless, it's in your face engraved wanton Aging eyes light ridicule, you always stay with intention to break her daughter's wish. Messy hair seems to remind you no longer young. I have no strength to accompany you run, even if faltering, still behind me and walk away. Perhaps one day you could walk, but you said you would have been at home for me, you said home is the only place I would not get lost, just look back, you see.
Father, thank you for your silence somehow. You know your daughter, she does not need your support all the way. Or displaced or by the water door, you always believe their children know how to live. She just needs someone to stand behind her, telling her she was not lonely.
Thank you, never left.
