Today, dyeing my mother's hair, is the first time this month, the sixth time this year, and the sixth time I have returned to her.
The white hair that is not dyed in January is as conspicuous as the reed flowers in the grass, and the green silk is half white and half black, mottled, and not as uniform as zebra lines. On the top of the head, the white of the staggered lines is like an egg, not the size of an egg, the white of an egg, not the arc of a duck egg but the size of a duck egg. Like a shuttle, my stubbornness was pierced by the silk yarn that was not successfully knitted.
The first time I realized she had gray hair was my freshman year. It was 2013. I didn't care about it a few times in the past ten years, and the eyes of the 100 families assistance plan turned white. At that time, in the streets of Guangdong, she came to pick me up, I didn't see a little rusty for a year, she walked in front with her suitcase, I easily saw the top of her head higher than her, and the first time I saw the white hair appear in her hair, it was telling me that a woman with green silk fell to the waist, left in my memory when I was 2 years old, it was 16 years ago, 27 years ago.
She is not a simple woman, she has a lot of hard words, and now she is occasionally jealous, and I sometimes have a little mood, just like when I just dyed my hair, I combed the left and right, the front and back were combed, the hair dye was applied all over the bun, and I arranged the hairstyle at will. A big oily head, or three or seven points, four or six points, I don't do it for fun, really, to better integrate the hair dye with the hair, really, she is unhappy, and said: Comb me better, five or five points, and the face that hangs down looks small.
She became closer to me, and after my father left, it became more and more obvious that we were dependent on each other.
I actually want to write about hair, but it's not about hair, I actually want to express her image in my heart, but it's not just about her, it's about our family, or I think it's about my family, every family has such a role in dedication, and there are several responsibilities in one person. We always feel that our family is growing up, but who is not actually aging?On the time flow line that can't catch up and can't wait, we use memory to piece everything together.
The following is what I gave the prompt AI to expand: But technology is not always what I think, people can't empathize, technology can't do situational experience, and words don't also have: the gap between meaning and words?
Mother, the selfless lady, her hair has gradually been dyed with the traces of time in the past 3 years or so, becoming like autumn frost, patches of white. The pressures and trials of life have left a deep mark on her, and she carries countless responsibilities and expectations on her shoulders. She has done so much for me, always worrying about me, I deeply understand that feeling, and my heart is full of self-blame and pain. The mother's world seems to have only family and work, no friends, and a lack of communication. She silently endured the hard work, but never complained. Her dedication is like a pearl in the deep sea, although it is hidden deeply, it always shines with the light of maternal love.