Different lives, the same father

The topic of my father appeared when I first learned to write, and many people have written about it. In the years that followed, no matter what age, it was always a proposition that never faded. It is said that a thousand readers have a thousand Hamlets, and the father, even in one person, has many differences, and the pen is like a childhood essay, and whenever I write about the composition of the character description, most of them are "My Mother" and "My Teacher", and there is little mention of the father. Now that the work is basically stable, not far from home, the days with my father are more, and I slowly remember my father's past.

Perhaps seriousness and reticence are the universal attributes of the role of "father", and my father is no exception, not very tall, with a round face that looks very kind to outsiders, but in my eyes is full of father's majesty. Things were a little unclear in childhood, and like most people, they felt that their fathers were serious and omnipotent, and that following them was pure admiration and adoration.

The most profound memory, or the father's "confrontation", that is to enter the middle school, met the parents both laid off, the family's life is poor and difficult, in order to maintain the family, the father returned to his hometown Xue Shui hai factory, started a fireproof building materials business, fortunately friends helped, slowly improved. At this time, the rebellious period of my youth was with immature self-thoughts, and while eager to show my maturity, I rebelled against my parents and school with a wrong world view; and even "unveiled" a joke about a school uprising. The school teacher couldn't do anything about me, my mother couldn't control me at home alone, and every time she mentioned studying, it was a noise. The mother secretly touched a lot of tears, but she couldn't hold back, and she talked to her father on the phone at night: If you don't come back, your son will be ruined! At that time, my father didn't say anything, stopped production and disbanded, and left everything in the factory just to come back and see my unfilial son. Once, because I didn't do my homework, I yelled at my mother and threw down a chair, and my father thought I had beaten my mother, and I had copied a hoe from the kitchen and hit it, and just by hitting the hoe handle, I was righteous. At that time, only my father could cure me, and I had a deep fear of my father. Fortunately, the restlessness of adolescence was finally spent without danger, and the remorse was my father's high blood pressure and stomach disease, but it was also the bane left at that time.

On the day I graduated from college, my father came to pick me up and take me home, and on the way home, he said to me, "Son, congratulations on graduating from college, and now you're going to take a new course, social sciences." "Maybe it's the pressure of not studying, maybe it's the change of mentality, my father's words are more than ever, we talk a lot, talk about the naughty things when we were young, talk about the international situation, talk about the funny things in the past, talk about the future wild hopes... It was a rare exchange between me and my father, who told me a lot of truths at that time, and although I listened to it at that time, I didn't really appreciate the meaning of my father's words, but unfortunately, to this day, few people can understand it.

Now I have the privilege of returning to my hometown, I have an errand, I am in the same office with my father, whether I work or live, I have more contact with my father, I have seen my father's aging, no longer full of spirit, the pressure of work has increased his depression of middle-aged people, and his steps are no longer as powerful as before, many times I always think of Zhu Ziqing's "Back Shadow", true and cruel. It should be that when I was older, my father began to consciously or unconsciously take care of my face, no longer directly educating me, and sometimes I couldn't help it, and I would mention it. So my father unconsciously developed a habit that at the dinner table, whenever my father had something to say, he would be silent for a while, and then take a deep breath before speaking to me. Whenever this happens I know that maybe there are some things lately that haven't been done very well. Occasionally because of the difference in thinking between the two generations, the collision of words is inevitable, but my temper is the same as my father, all are stubborn tempers, fortunately for the Son of Man, knowing filial piety first, often I am cheeky to "seek peace", otherwise my father is afraid that I will be angry with me earlier.

Occasional friction is also a spark of happiness. The son wants to be raised and the relatives are still alive, which is also a great blessing in life, let me accompany you more.