The only person in the world is waiting for you.
Mother really old, become like a child, every time the telephone, always full of enthusiasm to ask: when are you coming home? Not to mention being more than a thousand miles away and having to change trains three times, I couldn't find time to go home with my work and my children.
Mother's ear is not good, I explained for a long time, she still eagerly asked: when can you come back? Several times, I finally did not have the patience, shouted in the phone, she finally understood, silently hung up the phone.
A few days later, the mother asked the same question again, but in a timid, unconfident tone. Like an unwilling child, knowing that asked is white ask, but can not help it. My heart softened and thought for a moment.
Mother saw that I did not bother, immediately happy. She happily described to me: the pomegranates in the backyard are in bloom, the watermelon is ready to ripen, you come back.
I embarrassed ground to say: so busy, how can ask for leave! She urgently say: YOU say mother got cancer, only half a year of live head! I immediately reproached her for her nonsense, and she chuckled.
When I was a child, whenever it was windy and rainy, I didn't want to go to school. I had a stomachache in casual clothes. I was caught by my mother and got a good scolding. Now old, she instead taught her daughter to lie, I am angry and funny. When I finally had the heart to tell her that I would come back next month, my mother choked up with joy.
But somehow, there are always busy things, everything is more important than going home, in the end, in the end can not go back. The mother on the other end of the phone, as if there is no strength to say a word, I am full of guilt: Mom, angry? When the mother heard this, she quickly said, I am not angry with you, my child. I know you are busy.
But a few days later, my mother's phone calls became even more pressing. She said, "The grapes are ripe, the pears are ripe, come back and eat." I said, what rare, here is all over the street, spend ten yuan eight yuan can eat enough. My mother was not happy, and I had patience to coax her: however, those things are fertilizer and pesticide feed, which is better than you planted. Mother smirked.
On Saturday, the temperature is particularly high, I dare not go out, turned on the air conditioning at home. The kids said they were out of ice cream, so I had to go downstairs to get some. In the hot steam smoked street, I suddenly saw the mother's figure.
She looked as if she had just got out of the car, with a basket on her arm and heavy bags on her back, and she was stooping and dodging to avoid being touched. The mother struggled with every step in the crowded crowd.
I called out to her. She raised her sweaty face and looked around for me. She was surprised and speechless when she saw me coming.
As soon as they got home, my mother held them out happily. The veins of her hands were exposed, all her fingers were covered with tape, and there were scabs of blood on the back of her hands. Mother smiled and said to me: eat, you eat, this is all I picked out.
My mother, who had not been far away, came to me for a word. She took the cheapest passenger bus with no air conditioning. It was hot and crowded, but the sparkling grapes and pears were intact.
I could not imagine how she had travelled. All I knew was that wherever there was a mother, there were miracles.
My mother only stayed three days. She said I was too hard, working from dawn to dusk and taking care of the children. She was anxious but couldn't help me. She dared not touch any of the kitchen facilities for fear of damaging them. She went quietly to book the ticket herself and went quietly by herself.
Only a week after I went back, my mother said she missed me again and kept urging me to go home. I wry smile: Mom, you have to be patient! The next day, I received a call from my aunt: Your mother is ill, you come back quickly. Blackened with anxiety, I ran to the station in tears and caught the last bus.
All the way, I prayed. I hope mother lied to me. I hope she is well. I would listen to her chatter, eat up all the food she cooked for me, and visit her often.
At this time, I just know, people live to 80 years old also need a mother. The car finally arrived at the entrance of the village, the mother trotted over, smiling. I hug her, want to cry and want to laugh, blame way: you say what is not good, say oneself sick, kui you think!
Reproached mother, still infinitely happy, she just wanted to see me. Mother happily busy in and out, put a table of delicious things, waiting for my praise. I mercilessly criticized: red bean porridge cooked paste; The skin of fried dumplings is too thick; The pork is too salty. My mother's smile turned awkward and she scratched her head.
I secretly laughed, I know, once I say something delicious, mother will force me to eat a lot of it, and when I go to take with me. So, I was fed by her fat fat white, how all thin not go down. And, without belittling her, how do I stand a chance of occupying the hearth?
I cooked for my mother and talked to her. She stared at me for a long time, her eyes showing great love.
She listened reverently to everything I said with her mouth half open and ears sideways, and even sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at me during the afternoon nap. I said: since it hurts me so much, why not live with me? She said she could not live in the city.
Within a few days, I was anxious to go back, and my mother begged me to stay another day. She said that she had sent someone to the city to buy vegetables this morning, and would come back soon. She would make a good meal for me. The county town is more than 90 miles away from here, and my mother must bring back all the food she thinks delicious, so that I can eat it, so that she can feel at ease.
When I came back from my aunt's home, my mother carefully prepared dishes and finally served on the table. I couldn't help but wonder -- fish scales were not shaved, chicken nuggets were fine feathers, sesame oil enoki mushrooms had hair. Whether it's meat or vegetable, it's impossible to serve chopsticks.
Mother, who was so clean when she was young, is as untidy as she is now when she is old. My mother saw me pick to pick is not to eat, she painstakingly compromise, send me to sit night bus.
It was dark, and my mother took my arm. You're not used to country roads, she said. She accompanied me on the car, do not continue to charge East charge west, the car is open, just anxious to go down, but the corner was caught by the door, nearly fell.
I choked up, lying on the window Shouting: Mom, mom, you be careful! She did not hear clearly, ran after the car while Shouting: Child, I am not angry with you, I know you are busy!
This time, my mother seemed to be satisfied, she did not urge me to go home again, just kept saying to me some happy things: the family added a very good calf; Next spring, she will plant a lot of flowers in the yard. Listen to listen to, my heart gets a warm.
At the end of the year, I got another call from my aunt. She said: Your mother is ill, come back quickly. Where do I believe, we just before the word, mother said he was very good, told me not to miss. My aunt just kept urging me, so I went back and bought a big bag of my mother's favorite oil cakes.
When the car arrived at the head of the village, I craned my neck to look around. My mother didn't come to meet me, and I had a kind of foreboding in my heart.
My aunt told me that my mother was gone when she called me, and that she had passed away peacefully. Six months earlier, my mother had been diagnosed with cancer, but she hadn't told anyone. She was as happy and busy as usual, closing her eyes and getting her affairs in order.
My aunt also told me that my mother had suffered from eye disease for a long time and it was difficult for her to see. I held the bag of cakes tightly to my chest, as if my heart had been ripped out.
It turned out that my mother knew that her days were numbered, so she kept calling me home. She wanted to see me more and talk to me more.
Originally, I picky not to chopsticks food, is she in the blurred vision under the circumstances, how careless I am! How she found her way home alone the night I left, or whether she fell, I shall never know.
My mother, in her last moments, told me joyfully that morning glories covered the old chimney and lentils blossomed like the purple clothes I wore as a child. You leave all that love, all that warmth, and you go quietly.
I know, you are the only person in this world will not be angry with me, the only person willing to wait for me forever, it is with this love, I dare to let you wait so long. But, Mother, am I really that busy?