Recollecting my Father in the Remainder of my Life

It has been two years since my father left us. Many a times, I woke up from my dreams, heartbroken at the memory of my father in them, his absence causing me great hurt. I've shed countless silent tears. Father, I miss you so much. I wish you could visit my dreams more.

There are too many memories assaulting my heart. I was born in a beautiful small town in the Northeast. We lived, as a family, in a small bungalow. Though not wealthy, we were full of warmth. I remember being taken to his night shift job on his bicycle. It felt as if he had shielded me from all the storms, and I would be tucked within his protective silhouette, quietly gazing into the distance. His love for me was boundless.

Childhood memories are always beautiful. At the time, my father's bicycle was my safe haven as I could hide in his lap whenever we were on it. However, I envied the other children who could sit behind their parents on their bicycles. Upon noticing my small wish, my father had me sit in the back with my mother holding onto me. He quickly hopped onto the bicycle, appearing powerful, as if he could conquer anything. Under the protection of my parents and brother, I had a carefree childhood.

Eleven years ago, I graduated high school and for the first time, I left home. As my parents were quite busy, I decided to venture into an unfamiliar city by myself. One night before my departure, my father unexpectedly suggested accompanying me. I refused, assuring him that I was capable of going alone. Since that day, every time I had to leave home, my father would always pack my luggage early, accompany me to the train station, and watch until the train was no longer in sight.

After graduating from college, I was suddenly lost. I packed up and went back home, took up a low-paying job in my hometown, and even opened my own stall, selling toys, fruits, vegetables, a variety of things. During a dinner, my father advised me to leave the confines of our small town. I hesitated, pndered over his words, and considered my future. That same year during the Spring Festival, I decided to return to the city.

Just as I was establishing a comfortable life in the city, news of my father's severe illness arrived. The once robust man was aging rapidly due to his ailments. His hair had turned white, his hearing worsened, and due to ascites, his belly swelled, causing him to have respiratory problems. By the time the diagnoses were made, I discovered that my father was suffering from a life-threatening ailment known as dilated cardiomyopathy, marked by an enlarged and weakened heart.

In my father's last year, I quit my job, and devoted most of my time staying at home caring for him. We celebrated a grand birthday for him in the eleventh month of the lunar calendar. Although frail, he was elated to be surrounded by loved ones. That day, I saw his cheeks flushed with happiness, a sight I hadn't seen in a long while.

Every night, I wish I could hear his reassurances, feel his warmth, experience the beautiful cycle of growing up under his care again. However, these dreams will forever remain dreams. I'm left with nothing but memories and a void that can't be filled. Despite the sadness, I take solace in the wonderful memories, his endless love, and the lessons he imparted. In the remainder of my life, I will cherish my father's memory, knowing that he has been a beacon of light guiding me throughout my life's journey.