The smell of mom!
This is the smell I miss most at the moment. I remember the last time I stayed with my mother, before the outbreak. For two and a half years, I can't forget the white hair on my mother's head, the wrinkles on her forehead, and the paunchy jiaozi.
My mother was born in the early 1950s. When she was a child, her family was poor, with six brothers and sisters. Only when she caught up with the hardest time, the school gate never took a step forward. She has never been to school, but she is the most independent one in the family. She often said that the most correct decision she made in her life was to marry her father that year.
At that time, my father was a barefoot doctor in the village and one of many young intellectuals from the capital Beijing. At that time, my mother was eighteen years old, and with that indomitable energy, she was elected as the female captain from an ordinary rural girl. According to my mother, she took a fancy to this kind and handsome young man at the first sight of her father. Mom is a brave and decisive person. She always said, "I never regret it, because there is no regret medicine, but I will do what I have decided to do and do what I think is right." It is this forthright and brave character that makes my mother successfully "capture" my father.
But among them, grandpa is the head of the family. Grandpa used to be a veteran, but later he supported the frontier. The family moved from Hebei to Inner Mongolia and became a better family during the Cultural Revolution. Grandpa's idea is also very simple. At that time, family composition was a very important label for a person, and my father's family was born in a bad family. As a result, this became the biggest reason why Grandpa opposed their being together. So, my mother struggled to break off relations with her family and started their new life from poverty with my father. It was not until after I was born that my grandmother reconciled with me and eased this contradiction.
(Such similar fragments seem to be seen in many novels and movies. I thought it might be compiled by the author, but later I believed the sentence "Literary works come from life". )
Because she has a sister in the world and a younger sister in the world, she ranks third, that is, the one who is often chased by her grandmother with a stick and never gets dressed. In this way, she later became the happiest of the sisters. Mother often sighs with her father: "Look, you went to Inner Mongolia alone and brought back three people. Are you happy? " Dad will smile and answer: "happiness!" "
Nowadays, my mother regards her mobile phone as a teacher, and sometimes she says some idioms and classic sentences. She joined the community elderly model team, and she is also the main force in the team. It seems that white hair and wrinkles are just footprints left by time. She is still the eighteen-year-old girl who bravely pursues happiness.
When I was a child, I used to think I was a child that my mother didn't like. She seems to like my brother better. But then I found out that it was only because my younger brother was young and he had to bear a great responsibility when he was old. Mom will worry about me because I am late. She will call me specially and ask me what I want to eat for the first meal when I come home from vacation. She will also really like and treat the people I like.
I'm relieved, especially after I became a mother myself. I think my mother has always loved me.
A few days ago, I read a poem by passers-by in Beilin-"I am the most beautiful poem you wrote" in the national K song. Very simple sentence, listening to my ears, let my tears slip quietly across my cheeks. I can't help reading aloud.
Later, I sent it to my mother, and I said, "Mom, I will recite a poem for you!" " "
Attached is the original "I am the most beautiful poem you have ever written"
I am the most beautiful poem you have ever written.
Author | Passers-by in Beilin
Mother sat quietly on the edge of the kang.
Listen to me.
Read poems for her.
I read a song.
She said
So good
Flowers in the yard
Everyone laughed.
Open your mouth.
I read another song.
She said
Still so good
You see
magpie
female and male
land
Zan Jia de yuan
Every poem I read
Niang said
So good
I know
In Niang's heart
It's not poetry that sounds good.
But a poet.
That voice
Mom can't read.
But mom likes it.
I sat next to her.
intimately
Read poems for her.
She also likes
When I read a poem,
Serious expression
Niang said
What bothers her most is that.
Can't write poetry
She will dream about it.
Let me read a song for her.
Alone.
A poem written.
I took my mother's hand.
Write my name.
One stroke at a time
Written on her palm.
(expressing surprise, shock, etc.)
I wrote it by my mother.
The most beautiful poem
mother
smile
look at me
loudly
Read it out.
She's under her control.
name