After my mother's death, I witnessed a performance that my father had never been. The man who was strong and competitive all his life, in the old house, faced the grief of losing his mother alone, finally took off all his disguises and became a tearful man.
At that moment, I realized how deep my father, who had never been good at talking and not knowing how to express love, had deep feelings for my mother and the family.
We had made an appointment to pick up my father at 9 a.m., and as soon as I stepped into the courtyard, I heard the sound of crying, and my father in the hall was crying like a lost child.
It was as if my heart had been grabbed, the pain was unbearable, and my steps stopped. I couldn't face such a sad scene.
I leaned against the door and pondered, wondering whether I should take my father to live in the city. I understood that my mother's loss was a huge blow to my father, and I also learned that my father was reluctant to leave the home where he had lived for decades. However, after discussing with my sister, I decided to take my father to live in the city.
There were two reasons for our decision: one was that we were worried that my father would feel lonely at home alone, miss my mother, and be depressed and unable to let go; Second, considering that my father's body is gradually aging and getting weaker, he is at home alone, and the risk of illness is greater, and it is very difficult to take care of him.
In desperation, I had to discuss with my sister and take my father to the city and take turns taking care of him. My husband also expressed support for my proposal, saying that our parents raised us and that we should be filial to them in their old age. I was incredibly relieved by his understanding.
The son and daughter are also looking forward to the arrival of their grandfather, and expressed their thoughts about their grandfather in **, hoping that their grandfather can come to live at home as soon as possible.
At the urging of the two children, my father finally relented and agreed to live in the city with me. But I know that my father is very reluctant to leave everything in his hometown.
Every grass and tree here, every brick and tile here, and the neighbors here. are deeply engraved in his father's memory and integrated into his blood. He is like a big tree growing here, and letting him go is like uprooting him, pulling at his tendons and flesh, and the pain is incomparable.
What's more, my mother's grave is in the village, and leaving my hometown means saying goodbye to everything in the past.
But my sister and I couldn't leave everything in the city behind and go back to the countryside to take care of my father. After all, we have our own jobs, families, and children to take care of. Life has been difficult since ancient times, and in desperation, we can only wronged our father and let him leave his hometown.
My husband came over with the car door locked in the back and saw me standing in the door and asked me why I didn't go in.
Suddenly he heard his father's cry, and he immediately understood the situation, took out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and sat down by the door.
I asked him if it would be too cruel to take my father away like this.
He spat out a puff of cigarette and said that his father was too emotional, and if he was left alone, he would definitely think wildly, and he would be more likely to get sick if he was in a bad mood. Take him back to the city, with us and the children with him, and slowly, he will adapt to the new life and be able to get out of his sadness. It would be wise for us to take him to the city.
After listening to my husband's words, I no longer hesitated and walked into the house.
My father was sitting on a bamboo chair in the hall, and when he saw me coming in, he turned his back and wiped his tears.
I pretended not to see it and asked him if he had cleaned up.
When my father opened his mouth, I realized that his voice was hoarse. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that he went to sit in front of his mother's grave for a while yesterday, and maybe there was a little wind blowing and his throat was cold.
Later, when I met a neighbor on the road, I learned that my father had been crying in front of my mother's grave all afternoon yesterday, and his voice was hoarse.
Hearing this, I couldn't hold back any longer.
My husband carried his luggage into the trunk, and I walked behind my father, who was very slow. He choked and locked the door of the hall and then the courtyard.