(1) Father’s Three Pairs of Shoes
My father rarely wears shoes and has been barefoot almost all his life.
Nearly all the mountain people in my hometown don’t wear shoes. On the one hand, everyone is poor and cannot afford to wear shoes, but the main reason is that the mountains and roads are difficult and dangerous, and some of them cannot wear shoes. The mountain is so steep that monkeys shed tears when crossing the mountain, and blue sheep roll down the slope. A path as thin as a straw rope hangs windingly on the steep mountainside. Pedestrians move carefully along the cliff like geckos. If they are not careful, their feet will slip lightly, and people will be like birds in the canyon. Fly up and fly down into the abyss.
One year, two cadres who went to the countryside came. They hung their shoes around their necks and held leaves in their right hands to shield themselves from the outside. They said that it was so steep and deep that they felt dizzy. They leaned on the rock wall with their left hands and moved with trembling feet and trembling hands. Finally, they entered the village and began to preach the magic weapon to get rid of poverty and become rich. After talking for a long time, the mountain people's eyes were dull and their faces were expressionless. The cadres who went to the countryside were a little angry: We kindly teach you the secret to getting rich, what is your attitude? The mountain people then said quietly that the method you mentioned of buying in this way and selling in that way would not work at all. We buy a little pig and carry it in, but after it grows up, it will never be able to carry it out again. The two cadres who went to the countryside were stunned for a moment. One of them pushed up his glasses and wrote the six characters "The revolution stops here" on a cliff with a brush, followed by three exclamation marks, and then went home. . No one will come here to go to the countryside again.
When walking on such a dangerous mountain road, it is safest to go barefoot. Those bare feet, with their legs spread out a bit, were stuck on the steep mountain road like frogs, one step at a time, steady and powerful, and they had been walking this way for generations. My father has been walking barefoot on such mountain roads since he was a child. The wind comes and the rain comes, and before he knows it, he has become a young man in his twenties, and it is time to talk about his wife. Under the guidance of the matchmaker, my father came to my mother's house carrying tobacco, wine, sweets and tea to propose marriage.
According to local custom, if the woman does not agree to the marriage, she will ask the matchmaker to return the tobacco, wine, sugar and tea intact to the man's family. What my father received was a pair of straw sandals. Straw sandals hand-knitted by my mother. My mother was supposed to make a pair of cloth shoes for my father, but in those days everything had to be supplied by ticket, including needle and thread, let alone cotton. Although they were just straw sandals, my mother was very attentive and knitted them very delicately. There were two dragons wrapped around the two shoes. The dragon's head was at the nose of the shoe, and the dragon's tail snaked all the way to the heel of the shoe. Although many years later, my father told me with great certainty that the two dragons did not look like dragons at all, but more like two snakes, I could still tell that my mother was a good craftsman and her needlework was definitely good. My mother said it was not her fault that the dragon was made to look like a snake. The main reason was that she had only seen snakes and had never seen what a real dragon looked like. When my father got the straw sandals, he was overjoyed and couldn't wait to put them on. But the shoes were not easy to wear at all. He had blood blisters all over his feet that day. The next day, his toes, insteps, and heels were all covered with blood. They were all bleeding; on the third day, my father's feet were swollen like steamed buns, and his legs were swollen like pillars, and he couldn't even get off the ground. Looking at the red and swollen feet and the blood-stained straw sandals, my father was very angry and threw them into the fire pit. With a burst of smoke and raging fire, the pair of straw sandals instantly turned into ashes. My father was a rough man. He didn't understand that the pair of straw sandals was a token of love. It was light on courtesy but heavy on affection, and it should be kept forever.
My mother only found out long after she came here that the love token she had carefully weaved had been burned by my father. She was very angry and had a big quarrel with my father. His father blamed his mother for being too stupid and knitting the straw sandals that didn't fit his feet at all, causing him to be lame for more than ten days and wasting a lot of work in vain. His mother scolded him that those "bear paws" were not human feet at all and were not worthy of wearing human shoes. Despite the scolding, my mother still pieced together things, found needles and threads, accumulated rags, framed the cloth, put the soles on the shoes, and sewed the uppers. After countless days and nights, my mother finally made a pair of real cloth shoes for my father, and they were It was made based on my father's "bear paws" that were stretched out of shape. After my father put them on, he walked around by the fire pit, feeling very comfortable. Finally he concluded, "Hey, these are real shoes." After that, he took off his shoes, wiped off the soil on the soles with his sleeves, and patted them. I patted it again, blew it again, and then carefully pressed it under the pillow, never wanting to wear it again. When it was time for the Chinese New Year, my mother reminded my father, "It's the Chinese New Year, so take out your new shoes and put them on. Visiting relatives' houses will also give you face." My father carefully opened the pillow and was dumbfounded: the pair of cloth shoes had long been gnawed into pieces by mice. My father was so distressed that he kept hissing and breathing coldly. He gritted his teeth and cursed many curses at the pile of rags.
(2) Father’s phone bill
I got married at the beginning of 20xx. After our honeymoon, my wife and I were in crisis over our mortgage payments. For half a year, I had no contact with my parents, who were far away in another city and countryside.
One day in early summer, the cell phone that had been silent all morning suddenly rang, and it turned out to be an unfamiliar number. After the call was connected, the other party's voice was very strange: I am the fourth brother from your hometown, and your father wants to have a few words with you.
"I am your father!" My father's tone was very serious, and I could hear his rough breathing. My father said this sentence "I am your father" five times, and I couldn't laugh or cry. "Sanwa, are you still fine..." The father's voice ended in a long voice. I answered patiently.
My father kept talking for five minutes, asking me whether I was short of money and how my life was going. After hanging up the phone, I felt very surprised. My father usually doesn't communicate with me, so what happened to my mother-in-law today?
The next day when I was on my way to work, my phone rang again, and it was still the same number as yesterday. My father asked me if there was strong wind here. Right now, there is a strong wind of level 7 in my hometown. I said softly, no.
On the third day, I was working on a copywriting project when my phone rang again. My father said that his sheep had given birth to lambs, and they were all white, fat, and so cute. I was a little angry and said, Dad, I am working. Dad stopped talking and hung up the phone.
On the fourth day, my wife and I were having dinner when my father called again. "Baby, dad saw your childhood photos today. How handsome you were when you were young..." I felt sour. I said, Dad, I don’t have time now. I’ll go back and pick up the crops with you at the end of autumn. My wife was a little impatient: Why is your father now more nagging than your mother, calling you every day!
On the fifth day, my father didn’t call all day, and I was a little uncomfortable with it. At night, the phone finally rang. After connecting, there was no sound for a long time. I was a little anxious and said, Dad, just tell me if you have anything to do. Dad's voice was weak: It's okay... Dad just misses you a little... My heart moved, my nose was sore, and I couldn't say a word.
I didn’t receive a call from my father until the evening of the sixth day, and I felt a little empty. The clock pointed to ten o'clock and the phone rang. This time it's not dad, it's fourth brother. He told me in a low tone: Brother, your uncle had a heart attack this evening... He left...
My phone fell to the ground, and I froze there.
My father slept peacefully. Looking at his tired look, I finally understood the reason why my father was uncharacteristically calling me these days!
My mother handed me a list and said it was written by my father. The words on the paper were crooked but penetrated the back of the paper, shocking my soul - this is the oldest phone bill list.
The first time: I borrowed your fourth brother’s cell phone for about seven minutes of talking, 30 cents per minute for long distance, totaling two yuan and a dime.
The second time: I borrowed your fourth brother’s cell phone to talk for about one minute, which cost about 40 cents.
The third time: I borrowed your fourth brother’s cell phone to talk for more than a minute, and it still cost 40 cents.
The fourth time...
The total phone bill was ten yuan and eight cents.
There is a sentence at the end: Your mother is illiterate. Tell your mother to give the money to your fourth brother.
Holding this phone bill, standing in the wind, I burst into tears.
The end-of-life plan given by the MD to his father
After learning that he was suffering from a terminal malignant tumor, xx-year-old xx Qiang decided to give up all radiotherapy and chemotherapy plans and return to his hometown of Zhuji to spend his last days. His son, xx, a toxicology expert from the First Affiliated Hospital of Zhejiang Medical University and a doctor of medicine, supported his father’s choice.
When the last moment came on x, x, x, xx told her mother that if her father became comatose or his heart stopped, he should not take active rescue measures and let him pass away quietly.
This is a doctor’s decision on his father’s end-of-life treatment plan.
Decision
In March 20xx, xx was diagnosed with peritoneal malignant mesothelioma, which was already in the advanced stage and metastasized throughout the body. During the treatment at the First Hospital of Zhejiang Medical University, xx’s brothers, sisters, sister-in-law, and brother-in-law all came to the hospital and took turns delivering meals, keeping vigil, and serving the elderly.
In general surgery, it is easy to see patients with advanced tumors. The heads are much larger than the thin bodies, and some are just lying down with tubes inserted all over their bodies, seemingly soundless. Seeing that many patients with advanced malignant tumors were emaciated and in great pain, Chen Youqiang went to the doctor and said, "I really don't want to see my children running around and working so hard anymore, and I don't want to become like others. You can let me euthanasia. If You can't do this, I want to jump off the building myself."
My father's doctor, Dr. Gao, has been a friend for many years. Dr. Gao told the truth about the old man's condition and thoughts. After xx learned about it, she said to her father: "Dad, don't worry, you have to be strong when you are alive, but when you leave, I will never make you so painful - in the end I will let you go quietly and without pain."< /p>
In fact, Chen’s father has public medical care, and his children’s economic conditions are pretty good. They can live longer with radiotherapy and chemotherapy. After discussing with his family, xx decided to leave it to his father.
My father asked, how much time can be extended after chemotherapy and radiotherapy? xx said not necessarily, the effect may be a few months. My father asked how much it cost and what harm it would do to the human body? xx replied, it was all at public expense. The side effects were hair loss, weakness, loss of appetite, etc. My father said, let me think about it and tell you tomorrow morning.
At around six o'clock the next morning, my mother called xx and said that my father had decided to return to his hometown.
(3) Countryside
Starting from Hangzhou and driving back along the Fuchun River, it usually takes more than two hours. In July 2011, I sent my old father and mother back to the village. , xx drove for nearly five hours. Both he and his parents knew that this was the last time they would take this road.
The scenery on both sides of the Fuchun River is beautiful and lush, which is a typical Jiangnan beauty.
The car drove and stopped, and my father was usually taciturn. When the car stopped, he stood at the scenic spot for a while and chatted. My father once accidentally said that the noodles in Ma Jian Town are delicious. When the car drove into the town, xx said, Dad, let’s eat a bowl of noodles here. xx ate the pork liver noodles that she liked when she was young, and her mother had vegetable noodles as usual. My father ordered a big row of noodles and only ate half of it - he left the big row of noodles for his mother.
Back in the village, few people knew about my father’s condition. xx arranged for relatives not to say anything, "Just let my father live a peaceful and comfortable life quietly."
My mother accompanies my father. My father no longer takes medicine or injections, and only eats his favorite foods. "Strictly speaking, they are all taboos in traditional Chinese medicine, such as pork, fish, beef, chicken... Dad likes to eat meat, so let him eat it." ." xx told her mother, and her mother made different recipes for her father every day, "My father ate very happily, and he did not become very thin like a terminal tumor patient until his death."
In winter, my father always sat on the stone bench at the door. In front of him was the village playground. As far as he could see, he saw the front and back mountains in the distance. The mountains were full of tall and beautiful moso bamboos. When people in the village learned that the old man was sick, everyone who passed by always had to say a few words to him. In the last six months, my father saw almost all of these people who had been with his father when they were children.
My mother told xx that when I got tired of sitting on the stone bench, my father went home and made a few calls to old friends and old colleagues who used to work together at the bus station. xx remembers that his easy-going father almost never blushed with anyone, except with a colleague - but in the last days, his father called this colleague to chat, and the two reconciled.
Except for the period of studying abroad from June to June 20xx, almost every weekend, xx drove his wife and daughter back to the village to accompany his father. Five or six minutes walk along the old house, you will reach a hillside. White honeysuckle blooms along the road, golden lisianthus flowers and bright red wild strawberries are scattered among them. The bright yellow shoots of moso bamboo often pop out unexpectedly. Next to the hillside are several In the vegetable plot shared by the family, the stream from the mountain slowly flows down, almost silently, into the vegetable plot.
At that time, my father could still farm alone. He seemed to be saying to his son, but also to himself: "Look at this water, bit by bit it flows into the creek, into the Jinsha River, then to the Fuchun River, Qiantang River, and finally merges into the East China Sea, silently. Breathless, human life is like this too!" xx remembers these words.
My father first grew vegetables by himself, and gradually he went with a cane and sat on the ground to watch his mother do it. When xx returned home, his father said in the vegetable field: "I'm afraid I won't be able to eat the vegetables planted now, but Lala (granddaughter) can still eat them." It was still the summer of 20xx. Later, when my father was lying weakly in bed, my mother called me every day to tell me what my father said and what he ate every day.
The Spring Festival of 20xx is the most lively Spring Festival for the Chen family. All the Chen family gathered at the elder brother's house in xx, Zhuji City, big and small, old and young. My father gave red envelopes to each of his grandchildren. It was originally only 50 yuan a year. This year, the red envelopes became 200 yuan. The old man knew that this must be the last time he gave out red envelopes. The Chen family had New Year's Eve dinner and took many family photos. My father always smiled while taking photos.
Farewell: After this Spring Festival, on the first day of the new year, my father was admitted to Zhuji People's Hospital due to serious illness. According to my father's wishes and xx's advice, the treatment is just ordinary rehydration, symptomatic treatment, and pain relief.
(4) Grief
When he jumped into the river, the old father knew that the son he was looking for might have become a cold corpse.
My son drowned for more than 12 hours. Last night, he finished working on the construction site and was sweating profusely. He wanted to take a bath in the river, but he never came out after entering the water. The police came, and so did the firefighters. They said they were not familiar with water and did not dare to go into the water easily. Later, a professional salvage team also came, but they said that the water surface was vast and the salvage cost for one day would cost 30,000 yuan.
My old father can’t control so much. Their family all works in the town, and 30,000 yuan is a sky-high price. He had no money, but he still had strength. Back then, he used this strength to hug, carry, and beat his son. Now, he had to use some more strength to pick up his son himself.
But as soon as he jumped into the water, he became confused. He knew how to swim, but he didn't know how to recover a body. The river was vast and white, giving him no hint. He insisted on swimming with his head held high for a while, looking around nervously, but found nothing, so he had to climb back to the trestle.
People say that men hide their grief the deepest, but the pain of losing a child is so painful that there is nowhere to hide it. Sitting on the edge of the trestle, the father put aside his forbearance and reservation, beat the ground desperately, and cried bitterly.
Perhaps even the son who died young never thought that his father would have so many tears.
(5) Responsibility
Every choice probably involves entanglement, hesitation and reluctance, not to mention deciding which of your children should live longer. It was this painful choice that Levin encountered.
This 47-year-old British man is the father of three children. A year apart, his youngest daughter and second son developed kidney disease.
He was successfully matched with both children, but who should one kidney be left to?
Levin stopped at a fork in the road. He worked crazily, letting busyness and exhaustion occupy him, and just wanted to forget everything. Until one day, he took the first step resolutely. He no longer evaded, but bravely made a choice, using the simplest logic - leaving his kidney to the child who got sick first.
The little daughter accepted the precious gift. The operation went very smoothly. The child's body naturally integrated with the father's kidney, and there was no serious rejection reaction. In order to improve the quality of his kidneys, Levine spent more than four months adjusting his body. When the good news came, he was so excited that he cried. But then, the father's heart split into two halves, half joy and half guilt.
He no longer had any extra kidneys to leave to his son, so he could only hope for others to donate them. The doctor said that the disease in both children was caused by genes inherited from their parents. Levine said that God really played a big joke on him. But since it was his defect that brought pain to the child, he hoped to make up for it himself.
Faced with the most torturous choice, this kind man used his actions to interpret his unique responsibility as a father.
(6) Smile
"When the weather gets warm, you can have some fun!" "Come on. Smile, Hello!"
These words Appeared between a father and daughter. It's not the father coaxing his little daughter to play, but the daughter trying different ways to make her father laugh.
My father is a person with amyotrophic ALS. Over the past four years, his muscles have degenerated piece by piece. At first, his wife took care of him. After his wife passed away, his daughter took over this burden alone. But what the 24-year-old daughter wants to do is not just take care of daily life.
Her handsome father fell in love with the camera, so she borrowed a camera to take pictures of her "little life" with her father. "Life" is just repeated every day in a small room of more than 20 square meters, but the lovely daughter can always create endless surprises.
She would suddenly jump to her father's side, shouting his name cheerfully - "Comrade Zhao Shushan, here I come, hee hee!" Then she would pick up a small wooden comb and comb her father's hair over and over again. She pointed the camera at her father at close range and said with a smile: "That man is so handsome, so handsome!"
Sometimes she even forgot that she was her father's daughter. While at work, she would run home every two hours to help her father urinate and turn over. When wiping her father's body, she asked him if he was cold or not. She couldn't help but joked: "If you don't wipe it, you will stink and become a stinky dad. No one wants a stinky dad, so he sells it for two cents a pound." ”
When saying this, the young girl smiled softly, as if she was teasing her child.
It is conceivable that more than ten years ago, my father must have used similar techniques to make his children smile. But now, their roles have changed. The daughter began to put on a relaxed expression and put all her smiles in front of her father.
Just like his daughter 20 years ago, his father was also amused. Although, the middle-aged man who was lingering on the sickbed just drooped his neck, strained the muscles on his face, and showed a difficult smile.
(7) Mother’s Secret
My mother became a widow at the age of 28. When my mother came back from Qingdao for the funeral, my grandmother also came from Tianjin. The first thing she said when she saw her mother was: "Pack up, take the children and go back to live in Tianjin."
Although my mother cried bitterly and threw herself into my grandmother's arms, she shook her head and said, "No, we will just live like this, just pretend that he has not come back yet."
Since we decided to take my brother and me to stay In Peiping, my mother seemed to have come back from a strong wind. The wind stopped and she patted the dust off her body. Our lives quickly returned to normal under her condolences.
Under the lights at night, we did not feel lonely or empty because of the loss of our father.
My mother has not changed. When she encounters her younger brother being naughty, my mother still tilts her head, puffs out her mouth, pretends to be angry and says to her younger brother: "If your father were here, he would definitely slap his palms." It's exactly the same as when she used to say, "If your father comes back, he will beat his palms."
In this way, three years have passed.
One spring three years later, a guest came to our house. He was an ordinary guest, just like any other guest. His mother entertained him politely and cordially. This was her mother's usual character. This character was also influenced by her father's hospitality in the past. What's more, this guest we call "Uncle Han" was originally a classmate of my father's college days and a senior of my mother's middle school days. With these two relationships, Uncle Han is indeed more familiar with us than other guests.
He came back from a distant place. He learned about the death of his father and came specially to visit us.
Soon, he was transferred to Peking, and we had more contacts.
One summer night, it was hot and hot, and I woke up disturbed by mosquitoes that had gotten into the mosquito net. At this time, I heard something. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and looked out through the gauze curtain. I was frightened by the two figures under the dim yellow light. I held my breath.
I saw my mother sobbing, and it was Uncle Han who bent his arms to hug her. While crying uncontrollably, the mother said intermittently: "No, I have a child, and I don't want to..."
"Are you afraid that I won't treat my child well?" It was Uncle Han. sound.
After a while, the mother stopped crying and hid from Uncle Han's arms: "No, I have thought about it for a long time, but you are still someone else..." This time, there was no crying in the mother's words. sound.
I can’t describe my feelings at that time - was it fear? Is it disgust? Is it sadness? All. This was an emotion I had never experienced before, and it kept me awake for a long time. It was the first time in my childhood that I had experienced the pain of insomnia.
I gently turned towards the wall, and with a mixture of fear, disgust, and sadness, I listened quietly to my mother sending Uncle Han away. When she came back, she took off her clothes, turned off the lights, went to bed, and cried. In the end, I also left a piece of dampness on my pillow, and then I fell asleep uneasily.
When I woke up the next morning, I saw my mother on the bed opposite me unexpectedly not getting up. She turned her face inward and said to me: "Xiaohe, Mom has a headache. You take the money from the drawer." Let’s take my brother to buy sesame seed cakes.”
I didn’t answer, as if I had added another layer of inexplicable anger to the complicated emotions I had last night.
I remember that I didn’t pay attention to the lectures that whole day in class. I carefully studied what my mother said that night. I felt at ease at first, and then I was surrounded by a wave of fear. What I was afraid of was that my mother would be taken away by Uncle Han. Go to danger. Although I know that Uncle Han is a good person, I still have the feeling that no one should break into our lives except my father.
When I came home from school, the first thing I noticed was my mother's expression. She took care of us as usual, which made my anger less. Although I am not angry, my mood is constantly changing, sometimes happy, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes relieved, like a pot of boiling water with countless bubbles.
My mood that day was so pitiful and ridiculous.
The matter between my mother and Uncle Han seems to be likely to break out at any time. This worry often wakes me up in nightmares in the middle of the night. In the darkness, I shouted in a trembling voice: "Mom--" I felt relieved when I heard her murmuring in agreement in her deep sleep.
In fact, everything is a worry. I searched for terrible evidence in my mother's actions, words, and expressions, but I never found any. It was as if nothing had ever happened, and my mother was so peaceful.
Until two months later, Uncle Han left Peiping and he was transferred back to Shanghai. In half a year, good news came - Uncle Han was getting married. My mother showed me the pink wedding invitation and asked me: "Xiaohe, what gift should we give to Uncle Han?"
At this time, my heart, which had been tightened for a long time, suddenly The child relaxed, happy and apologetic for not forgiving her mother for a long time, two sudden feelings blended together. I ran back to the room, wiped away the tears, then opened the drawer, took out the bank book my mother had given us to save, and sent it to my mother with mixed emotions.
My mother was puzzled by my behavior. She took the passbook and looked at me with suspicion. I said happily: "Mom, take out all the money in the bankbook to buy gifts for Uncle Han."
"Silly boy." My mother also laughed, and she squeezed my hand with her soft hands. mouth. She won't understand her daughter.
This happened 15 years ago. Since then, we have spent many years peacefully.
Occasionally we also heard some news about Uncle Han. I paid attention to my mother's demeanor. She was very peaceful.
My mother’s old friends all envy her for having a pair of good children. Only I know that we can grow up in complete maternal love because our mother has sacrificed something.
(8) Father’s “Mount Fuji”
Recently, I don’t know what kind of devil my father is, but he brings me food every day. Sometimes it's a handful of green beans, sometimes it's fresh pork just bought from the market, sometimes it's pickled radishes that were given to him but he couldn't bear to eat. At first, I was very moved when I saw him coming from a few kilometers away, getting off the electric car tremblingly, and handing the things into my hands. But as time went by, I became a little impatient, because his arrival always disrupted my thoughts and made the inspiration I just got disappear without a trace.
Finally, a few days ago, my father went to the south for a trip with a group of senior citizens. I felt relieved, but soon I found that I felt empty. So I took some time to help him clean up his room, and accidentally found a diary in a pile of clothes. Driven by curiosity, I opened it——
Since my wife passed away, I feel that life is impermanent and time is limited. My youngest daughter was afraid that I would be lonely, so she brought me a pile of books. Recently, I read an article called "One Issue, One Meeting", written by a Japanese named Otsu Shuichi. The article is quite reasonable.
The article talks about a person who has a lot of time but doesn’t know how to cherish friendship. When I was seriously ill, I remembered that I should meet and talk to my friends and relatives. And when they flew from all over the world to see him, he was so confused that he could neither recognize people nor speak.
"One period" is a lifetime, and "one meeting" is a meeting. It means that every moment in life cannot be repeated, so every meeting is the only one. It reminds us to cherish every opportunity to meet and devote our whole body and soul to the only possible meeting.
I feel that my physical and mental strength are exhausted, and perhaps my time on earth is numbered. The two sons have been with her since they were little and see each other every day. Only the youngest daughter has been studying abroad since she was a teenager. After the divorce, she lives alone with her children a few kilometers away.
Although she is nearly 40 years old, she is still arrogant and careless in doing things. People who create are always immature, which really makes me worry. Doing the math, if my little daughter comes once a week, 52 weeks a year, for another five years, we will only see each other 260 times!
Since she can't come, I will go see her. Last time my old friends and I went to an insurance company to take a marketing class, they asked a question: What if we can’t get over Mount Fuji? The answer is to walk over!
Mount Fuji is a national treasure that Japan is proud of. And aren't children the "Mount Fuji" of their parents? Since the laws of nature do not allow us to wait, let me, an old man like me, make more trips to "Mount Fuji" while I can still move.
After all, the child is a child, and I don’t blame her if she loses her temper with me. Who knows if this time will be the last time?
Seeing this, my tears rolled down.
As children, should we take the initiative to open our legs and open our arms to welcome our elderly parents who are gray-haired but still working hard to reach us?