I have always wanted to write about my father, first of all, he is the most caring man in my heart. Since childhood, my parents have been living apart like most families in China, and I only see my father once or twice a year. In the 1970s, when life in China was still poor, my father worked in an institution directly under the central government, and his salary and labor insurance benefits were good. Every time he went home to visit his family, he carried home the money he had saved, as well as supplies such as sugar, condensed milk, and soap, to provide for my mother, my sister, and me. With the introduction of Comrade Xiaoping's policy of separating husband and wife, my mother was transferred to my father's work unit, and our family was finally reunited. I was four and a half years old at the time! From then on until I went to college, I remember that my robust father did all the hard work in the family, such as splitting wood and making honeycomb coal. I vaguely remember the weekend of three days, my father early in the morning and hundreds of pounds of coal (mixed with some soil), to catch the high temperature, the day to beat all the honeycomb coal, to the time of darkness, and then move them to the storeroom yard. My father was also known as the "White Cloud" washing machine in the office. Although the family had bought a double-tank washing machine a long time ago, my mother always hated it for not being able to clean the washing machine. My mother was a hygienist and had to do a lot of cleaning every now and then, so my family's quilts, sheets, and clothes relied on my father's hands to scrub and rinse them. At that time, I lived in a cottage, there is a fence blocking the yard, often early in the morning, my father came back from running, began to boil water, the soap residue let go of the water into water, and then the quilt sheets soaked up with the rubbing board rubbing, my father washed out of the quilt and clean and white. When you cover them at night, there is a faint fragrance and the smell of sunshine. (I'm ashamed to say that I never washed my clothes before I went to college. I relied on my father's hands to scrub them, so that I always wore clean and neat clothes to school.) I'm not sure if I've ever had a good time, but I'm sure I've had a good time, and I'm sure I've never had a good time.
My attitude towards work stems from my father's discipline and influence on me since I was a child. I'm not sure if I'm a good person, but I'm a good person, and I'm a good person, and I'm a good person. Before the reform and opening up, intellectuals are not valued, my father in those days, often woke up in the middle of the night, but also under the lamp, when he was writing papers. Later, those important papers published as part of the supporting materials, so that my father finally won the "National Scientific and Technological Progress First Prize", recognized by the state! My father's talent was not only in his work, he was also very strict in his life. Since I can remember, every morning at five o'clock, my father had to go out running on time, about ten kilometers round trip. For this reason, he was always in good health. In the unit sports meets at that time, my father always won first place in any event in which he participated. --It is said that we still have trophies such as iron buckets, washbasins and hot water bottles at home! Nowadays, my elderly father insists on walking 10,000 steps a day, no matter how rainy or windy it is. The quality of the old man's life not to give up lightly, the tenacity of the will, I think I inherited more or less, which makes my life benefit a lot!
My father is a filial son, the only time in my life that I saw my father in tears was when he learned that my grandfather had been diagnosed with "terminal lung cancer" and was terminally ill. I clearly remember that my father was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I was still a good boy at that time, snuggling next to my father, watching him shed heavy tears. --It was the winter of 1978, my father received an urgent telegram to take the train home, when my grandfather was already paralyzed in bed. My father's family had many brothers and sisters, my father worked outside all year round, my uncle was still young, and the burden of life for all of us was on my grandfather, and later my father kept mentioning with regret that my grandfather died of exhaustion. ...... Although the father can not be at the side of filial piety, but his filial piety to the grandparents is self-evident!
The man I most admire and adore in this life is my old father!