The seventh day of February

Woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep anymore. For many days, I got into the habit of writing articles in the morning. February 7th is my mother's anniversary. I woke up thinking about how to write, my heart was rolling and I couldn't sleep. I have no choice but to get dressed.

It has been seven years since my mother left us. In such a season when grass grows and warblers fly and flowers and trees sprout, her old man left us forever before he could say goodbye.

For seven years, my mother has been in my dreams. I woke up sobbing and there was nothing in front of me but darkness. After countless tears wet the pillow towel, I gradually understood that my mother had left us forever and there was no chance to be filial to her.

I am the youngest child of my mother, and the world is getting older and younger. I ate my mother's milk until I was five years old, until the day before I went to the "Red Breeding Class". Blood is thicker than water, and my mother and I are the deepest and dearest.

I am sorry for my mother, and I am ashamed of my mother. /kloc-I was pregnant in 0/0, and I gave birth to a child at one time. My mother gave me life, and I worked hard to raise me and let me go to school. On the issue of marriage for life, my parents and I had differences and finally complied with my wishes. Although I have devoted myself to filial piety for many years, with the growth of my age and the change of my role, I deeply understand how selfish my original choice was and how it hurt my parents' hearts. I didn't sleep well. How many times did my mother wake up in the dark with tears in her eyes and sleepless thoughts? Leaving my hometown and parents like this, I will cut a big wound in my mother's heart. I will bear this heavy cross all my life.

I'm used to cooking at school, but when I get home, I think my mother will let me eat pickles. My brother said I didn't understand my mother's suffering. It's only been a few days, and I still can't adapt to the hard life. I only thought about myself. This is just petty capitalism. I think I am a teenager, and I am trying to find something for my mother, that is, to sprinkle salt on her wound.

After working in a different place, my parents work in a construction site not far from the school. Seeing them working in the hot sun, my eyes were wet with tears, and I felt ashamed, helpless, ashamed and disgusted. As a farmer's son and mother's darling, I feel ashamed and uneasy about having such an idea.

After the 69-year-old had a cerebral infarction, she had a strong sense of self-discipline, and her mother, who never gave us any trouble, could no longer control her conscious behavior. During the treatment in the Second Hospital of Linzhou City, Niang needs constant escort. Once, my father went home to get something, and I went downstairs to get it when I was near the door. I have cleaned up my mother and told her not to move again and again, but when I came back, my mother had fallen to the ground. I suddenly became angry and shouted at her loudly to vent my dissatisfaction. My mother cried secretly without saying anything. Every time I think of this scene, I can't forgive myself Mother is a patient, and her consciousness is blurred. She can't look after herself. How can she be like a good person? When I was young, why did my mother ever speak loudly about me? Why should I treat my mother like this? Ask yourself, regret it, tears welled up.

When renting a house in Liukou, one night in winter, my mother would go out for a walk. The night is bleak and lonely. I helped her walk back and forth in the street several times, but I still didn't mean to come back. Pointing to the direction of my hometown, I said I wanted to go home. I forced her to go back, but my mother was very strong. As soon as I pulled back a few steps, she made up her mind to pull back and tossed back several times. I am anxious to go back to rest, too emotional, selfish and heartless.

Two days before my mother left, my father called us in the middle of the night and said that my mother was choked by soot. When we hurried back to our hometown, my mother was flushed and fell asleep quietly, and it was unanimously judged that she was choked by soot. I went to the hospital the next day, and I didn't know about my mother's cerebral hemorrhage until I had an MRI, and the amount was large, so I missed the best opportunity. If you come in the evening, maybe … but it's too late to say a word now.

When my mother was just sick, I went back once. My father said that my mother didn't eat or listen and kept crying. That was after I had just been hospitalized twice, and I didn't care, because I was in a hurry to go back to the county seat. Later, eldest brother called me from the construction site and gave me a lecture. Let's spend time treating my mother. A check-up in Anyang Hospital is indeed a precursor to the aggravation of the disease, so I am really subjective.

The only thing that makes me feel gratified is that I have been guarding my mother and doing what I can during her illness and hospitalization. I also pushed my mother around the street in a wheelchair, went to the park for sightseeing, and drove my parents to Shibanyan to see the green mountains and green waters, leaving her footprints and smiles.

When my mother was away, I went home to visit the grave and met a classmate's mother. She said a sentence that I still remember: going to the grave is a trivial matter. When I was alive, filial piety was better than anything else!

Indeed, "the tree wants to be quiet and the wind will not stop, and the son wants to raise it without kissing it." But at this time, he can only express his grief to the grave!