I wasn't a good son

I wasn't a good son

When I was young, my impression of my mother was that she went to work in the production team during the day, and at night she would wash radishes, cut sweet potato chips, or spin thread, wear shoes, and pull a string on the door. Mother can't cook big dishes, steamed dishes once a year, are operated by father himself, but mother's noodles roll the best, the whole village is famous. When a guest came to the house, father said: Eat noodles. Then there was the sound of chopping boards and bellows in the kitchen. My mother soon brought bowls of hot noodles.

While the guests ate, we children were sent off to play in the village lane, and after a short time we would sneak back and see if there was anything left. Sure enough, there were only one and a half bowls left in the bottom of the pot.

In those months, pure white noodles were only used to entertain guests. When there were no guests, we could have a meal of rice and noodles at noon. My mother would first fish a bowl for my father, then pour some water and vegetables, and then fish a bowl for my brother and me, and finally she only had rice and vegetables in her bowl.

At that time, the lack of food and wood, life is very tight, we do children not sad, weekdays only happy to play, the most trouble is to help mother mill. Often as soon as the day is dark, mother will clean up the mill, mixed with white grain or beans in the wheat mill a kind of mixed flour, so big stone mill she can not push, she and my brother to help. Moon lang star rare under, go round and round, dizzying. After grinding it, mother started to put the basket through, and my brother and I fell asleep on the mill.

Before long, my mother called us to wake up and push again. My brother and I always said that we had finished grinding. My mother said that we would grind the wheat bran several times until it was as thin as mosquito wings. My brother and I quarreled with my mother and threw a stick to sulk. Mother sighed, but to knock on the neighbor's window, begging people: "Two sister-in-law, two sister-in-law, you get up to help me push the mill!"

The other half a day do not say a word, she is still begging, said: "we change work, your home mill, I help you...... The child has to go to school tomorrow. I dare not delay her lessons."

Looking at the mother's humble appearance, my brother and I did not have the heart to rub his nose and take up the grinding stick.

The mother runs the family food and clothing is in every detail, and the real matter of the family, mother is no matter, everything by the teacher of Sunday to go home father to decide. In the years when I was in college, every time I went to town after summer and winter holidays, there was always a family meeting on the first night. The family meeting was almost given by my father. I would talk for two or three hours about how to study hard and treat people sincerely, what Confucius said, and how people in ancient and modern history struggled.

My mother sat to the side, rolling paper for my father's smoking hookah bag, and then began to nap. The father finally asked, "What does the mother have to say?" When the mother woke up, the father was angry: "Look at you, you can sleep? !" Mother smiled and said: "You are a teacher, so can say, I say what ah?" They all laughed and went to bed separately. At this time, my mother came to the spirit, to close the gate, close the pigsty, check whether the cabinet cover all kinds of rice noodles crock cover, prevent mice into, and then packed my luggage, and then a person to the kitchen for me to pack up the day to eat vegetarian dumplings.

After the death of my father, I planned to pick up my mother to live in the city, she did not come, said that father died less than three years, not three years of the dead will have Yin spirit often come back, she had to be at home for meals in front of the funeral card. On weekdays when it was warm, she also went and rubbed the cards with some old ladies in the village. She had a few chickens, but she didn't eat much eggs. Whenever someone came to sit down, she always wanted to cook a fried water, and there was a poached egg in the fried water. Every year, when the plums in the yard were ripe, she would leave some for me and send them to the city. No one went to town, but she kept them for me. "I love sour fruit," she would say for a long time, until the plums were completely rotten.

She learned and practiced Qigong at her sister's house. When I went to see her, she called me to the cabin without saying a few words and insisted that I drink cold water from a bottle. When I asked her what happened, she said it was information water given to her by a Qigong master. I drank half a cup, she took apples and oranges to let me eat, said the information fruit.

Whether I become an expert or not, my mother is always ignored, she does not know the glory of my work, my work on the trouble and depression will not tell her. A "Waste Capital" published, so that I received countless praise and attack, my mother did not say a word. When she knew that I was alone and ill in the hospital, she wept with sadness and wanted to come to the city to see me, but her sister-in-law would not let her come and would not show her the way. She was so angry that she cursed this and that at home. Later, when she came in the wind and snow, her eyes were seriously ill, but she cried out: "What is my baby's life? !"

I told my mother, my life is not bitter, I think I can afford, what injustice and disaster as a teenager I up the hill cutting wood, pick one hundred jins sticks walking on the road, because of the narrow road, no fixed resting place is can't let go of sticks, shoulder pain, leg acid also can't leave again, from then on I would build a resilience. And now the hardest part is that I can't wait on my mother myself! His father died, as the eldest son, I should worry about the family, so that mother in the old age live happy, but now, I not only can not take care of the mother, but let the mother also worry about the son, what son I do?

I took my mother out of the hospital and watched her get on the car to go back. I still took out the only money I had to give her. I said, money can't replace filial piety, but I can only do this now! My mother understood my heart. She took the money, held it tightly in her hand, straightened my collar again, touched my face, told me that my beard was long, covered it with a hot towel, and shaved it well before getting on the bus.

I watched the car go farther and farther until it was out of sight. I went back to the room, lay down on the bed and started to get the needle, my tears streaming down in silence.