Mother's power

Mother is there, love is there, home is there, and happiness is there.

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My mother has just passed the 73-year-old life hurdle with trepidation, and she seems to be ten years younger with a cheerful mood. In her own words: seventy-three, eighty-four, Yan didn't ask herself to go. After years of pain, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that even the Yan couldn't help her after she was seriously ill at the age of 72. She wants to live for another ten years. She wants to see her children do something. Her life is worth living. ?

Mother has always been our role model, a very powerful role model. ?

In 1930s, my mother was born in an old-fashioned, shabby small landlord family in the mountainous area of Chongqing. Unfortunately, my mother lost her mother at the age of three and never enjoyed maternal love; My mother's father, that is, our grandfather, is a member of ordinary cloth in Qian Qian. He is well-behaved, honest and steady, and has never suffered any life blow or political shock. According to my mother, her family was a noble family, and Fiona Fang was my mother's home for dozens of miles. 1995 After I went back to my mother's hometown for a field trip, I believed what my mother said even more, because I measured her with my feet for more than 40 days, and I never left their territory: all three townships and five villages belonged to my mother Jiang's family. Wherever I go, no matter who I meet, they will tell me their relationship with my mother, my relationship with them, their children's relationship with me, which are intertwined. No wonder my mother didn't go to school all day, but she has everyone's open-mindedness and understanding! ?

Shortly after my mother's biological mother died, my mother's father married my mother's stepmother and went home. In the feudal family where the father and husband were in power, the mother had no other right to oppose any actions and changes of the family except diligence, and even had no environment to express her emotions freely when she was young. In countless nights when I miss my biological mother, she can only hide under the covers to suppress her crying. This is why our father went early, but our mother still insisted on raising our five brothers and sisters alone! She believes that a family can be considered as a family without a father; If you lose your mother, you lose everything; She deeply understands the pain of losing her mother, so she will never let us repeat her mistake: she gave our father and mother double the love they can give. ?

Because of her clever mind, her stepmother didn't abuse her; My stepmother is addicted to opium. In my mother's childhood memory, the image of stepmother is leaning on the bed, holding a long pipe in her hand, smoking all day, from day to night, from spring to winter; My mother is always busy pinching tobacco, lighting cigarettes and pouring ash for her. When I was young, my mother was smart and studious. However, for the convenience, the stepmother resolutely refused to let her mother go to school, which became a heartache that her mother could not calm down all her life! ?

My mother is very clever. Although she didn't go to school, whenever she went up the mountain to cut wood and graze cattle, she would run to the school gate and stay in front of the window for a while, listening to her husband telling students about the three-character classics, hundreds of surnames, four books and five classics. Gradually, her mother can recite the contents of these books fluently, which makes her three mothers carry their schoolbags to school every day.

My mother's stepmother has been accompanied by smoke and bed all her life. Smoke never leaves her hands and body. Finally, one day, she was skinny and fell down on the bed filled with thick smoke forever, ending her extremely dull, boring and insignificant life. ?

After her stepmother left, her mother ended her smoky days, but she soon married someone. ?

In the early 1960s, my mother became the first "immigrant" at home-far away from the mountains and rivers she was familiar with in the south, and followed her father who had no memory or impression for more than 20 days, and came to the dusty and inaccessible northwest-the legendary beautiful Xinjiang. ?

I don't know how barren Xinjiang was forty years ago, and with what strength my mother persisted and settled there permanently. In my deep memory, Xinjiang in the early years was an endless wasteland: barren deserts, Gobi and saline-alkali beaches accompanied me throughout my childhood; Digging ditches to divert water, digging wells, planting trees and building roads have accompanied my whole youth; Cloak Dai Yue, spring ploughing and autumn harvest, digging in the soil with the loess facing the sky, is unforgettable for my whole youth! ?

I often complain why my mother chose such a place where the mountain is high and the emperor is far away. I don't know why I don't like Xinjiang. I don't like it to raise me and cultivate my hometown. I told my mother that I want to leave here. Anyway, I want to go out of this yellow land and look for a land suitable for my growth in the distance, just as my mother found Xinjiang, a land that she could not give up for decades; My mother has always warned me that land is the foundation of the people. Farmers have no land for generations to grow, and they are not practical wherever they go. I don't have my mother's affection for the land. I'm even afraid of being permanently imprisoned in that land for generations. I long for the outside world. So, under the great and wise decision of the country to vigorously call for the development and construction of the western region, I packed my bags, ran counter to it, and resolutely left there-my mother's second hometown, my first hometown, and became the second generation of "immigrants" of my mother's family after my mother-and went out of Xinjiang to seek dreams in the south. ?

Up to now, I don't understand why my mother is so obsessed with Xinjiang, but she doesn't say a word about her first hometown, Xinjiang, which is known as the "land of abundance". When her children left her with hard wings to provide her with better living conditions and environment, she still stubbornly stuck to the old house where we grew up and refused to leave. I raised my doubts to my mother, but time filtered its purity, and only gave our generation of truly native Xinjiang people the right to think and rethink, but didn't get the essence: I haven't found the answer yet. After living with my mother for twenty years, I found that I never really knew and understood my mother. In my eyes, my mother is still as deep as a mountain, as rich as the sea, and still full of magical colors and infinite power. ?

Life in Xinjiang is very hard. My father and his mother were together 12 years before he died. He left his mother five young children, the youngest is one year old and the oldest is only eleven years old, and there are endless sufferings. He left without saying a word. When my father left, I was only three years old, so when I have memories and am asked about my feelings and impressions of my father, I often look for my poor childhood and can't find anything about my father. This is a thing that makes me extremely annoyed and regretful all my life: father, I have never had such a concept in my life; This title, because my mother said I spoke late, I never got a chance to appreciate it. I'm afraid my father didn't expect to leave so soon, so he only left a photo when he met his mother decades ago and disappeared from this world without a trace. His departure also made us completely cut off contact with their family: from our generation, we became descendants of pure matriarchal families, and our blood relationship with our ancestors and father's family completely ended. ?

My mother took on the hardships of life with her mountain-like perseverance and the depth of the sea, and set up enough sails for our stormy and fragmented home to shelter from the wind and rain and ride the wind and waves; Mother is a wall. The wall does not fall, but the home is there. ?

As the years passed, my mother didn't complain to her relatives, my grandfather and uncles when she was in the most bitter and difficult valley of her life. She seemed determined to prove the correctness of her original choice, so she got up early, worked hard and struggled with her fate to survive. In order to live, I am swaying my stubbornness and unyielding in the cracked land under my feet. After struggling in Xinjiang for more than 20 years, she had the first chance to return to her hometown-Chongqing, the foggy city in the mountain city. Yes 1982. That's the father-mother of the century old man. At that time, our grandfather who lived under one roof for five generations was 88 years old. Anyway, mom should go back and see. After being away for more than 20 years, it is precisely because my grandfather is alive that my mother in her fifties feels that there is still a home and a concern in the distance. ?

Mother's return became an earth-shattering event in their family at that time, and her mother became a local legend. As the first person to walk out of the mountains for generations, her courage and decisive decision left most people at that time behind. Mother wrote a brand-new and unforgettable page for their family tree. ?

Five years after my mother came back from visiting relatives, my grandfather died and my mother never rushed back to attend the funeral. Grandpa lived to be 93 years old and was disease-free and painless before his death. According to my uncle, he went as if he were asleep: his eyes were smiling and his expression was peaceful. I haven't seen this centenarian, but my mother brought back some photos of him when he was 88. He is really kind and lively. The beard is long and white; Eyebrows are also long and white; Straight body, looks full of energy; Wearing a hat all the time, I can't see my hair; I asked my mother: Is grandpa's hair white or gray? Mother said: Grandpa loved beauty all his life. If you think gray looks good, it is gray. If you think white looks good, it's white: mother is so protective of grandpa, which shows that she is really proud of having a father like grandpa. ?

When I first heard the bad news, I thought my mother could take it lightly: life and death, joys and sorrows, my mother has experienced too much; But she still shut herself in the hut and cried. It was the first and only time in my life that I heard my mother cry. Mother seems to have vented her life's grievances and pains through her grandfather's departure. When I heard my mother crying, I felt a sense of collapse and despair. At that moment, I seemed to understand why my mother was so determined and so resilient. I also understand why my mother is so powerful. ?

Growing up is a hard process, but we still stumble under the care of our mother's thin shoulders. In the process of growing up, no matter what setbacks and blows we encounter, no matter what storms we face, mother will always be our solid and heavy backing. ?

Now, we may not be the happiness and pride of our mother, but the strength given by our mother will be the inexhaustible wealth and source of happiness for our brother and sister all their lives!

Novel: Fate is doomed to three lives.