Double Ninth Festival Missing Father
There were no elderly family members, and he thought of my father, so he didn't go on chasing drama, calmed down, and missed my father.
It has been 20 years since my father passed away. In the past 20 years, because I was too far away, I rarely had the opportunity to visit his grave. The regret of Jiashan Thousands of Miles Orphans has been lingering in my heart for many years. Every day when there is a memorial service and family affection, I will silently think about the lonely grave in the private plot of Hetai, Dapotou Village, my hometown. The melancholy mood can't reach the distant distance, and the real helplessness eventually accumulates more and more. The homesickness of Ye Luo, perhaps the traditional concept of returning to the roots of Ye Luo also proved my gradual old age.
My father’s life, to be interpreted with me, is a life of struggle, sadness, and loneliness.
My deep memory comes from his return to his hometown after retirement and the completion of his long-cherished wish to bring the village of only a few relatives in the depths of the mountain into a thriving long-cherished wish, and in the process of implementing it step by step. ,He is slowly aging in my eyes. Located in a village in the mountains, there are few people. After ten years of wandering away from our hometown at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution, we moved back again in 1982. The environment we faced was not excessive with the enemy. Whether protecting the land or the grassland, it seems to be powerless. The scene at that time was because I was not there when I was young, and there was no memory in my mind. It was later heard from my father, mother and other people. Of course, the nearby villages do not want to see such a few families come out of thin air, and separate the land and grassland they have occupied for more than ten years. After a bloody conflict, several families finally settled in their homeland ten years later. Later on, I thought of Israel, which was struggling to build a nation. It seemed to be the same version, too long without personal experience, so I can't elaborate on it.
I never knew what power supported my father to return to the grassland from the land without hesitation. In fact, all the conditions in the left village are no worse than in the current hometown. When I kept sheep at home, I always saw my father carrying a bag frugally, traveling back and forth between the village and government departments at all levels, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night, and seeing him writing under the dim light With the petition materials, on the table with a pile of cigarette butts, there was tea that had already cooled down. It was not until my father retired and returned to his hometown early to start his series of plans. Every family has access to water and electricity, and a natural administrative village is established on the basis of a few households. All of this is for two things, human rights and independence. It's ridiculous, but now, few people in my hometown can understand the profound significance of this. That sentence has long been Ling Yunzhi, re-enter Da Potou! The weight yelled out from a body that was only one meter and six meters tall and had tortured, I only realized it after I really understood it. Society is progressing and developing, and as time goes by, everything seems to be letting it go. There are really not many people who can remember that tired and stubborn face, and I will see that face many years later, thousands of miles away in Xinjiang, and it often appears in my dreams.
We were a combined family, and living with our mother was a helpless choice at that time. For more than 30 years, his mother did not understand him very well. There was no love between them, but only the family affection and responsibility accumulated by time. The complex relationship between our siblings and half-parents was silently resolved by our father's fraternity. For his children, he needs a strong personality and wants to plan a perfect future for everyone. However, in the end, I was the only one who took a path that was beyond his expectations. We did not bring him a sense of accomplishment. At least, I did not. Because I am the only child after their union, with this special identity, my father expects and loves me. And the me who accompanied him during his lifetime was absurd and stubborn, and I often made him hate iron but not steel. I think I was the saddest seed that pierced his heart. He walked hurriedly and caught me off guard. Before I really knew how to be a father, he had already let go with the grief I gave him. In his life, my seed has never bloomed brilliantly once.
Stance. Whether we are farming at home or studying away from home, few of our brothers and sisters have had in-depth conversations with him all night long. He is like a tree that shelters us from wind and rain and becomes our support. And we don’t know whether this tree needs nutrient water or whether the root soil is dry. Before my father was alive, our brothers and sisters did not always surround him, and many young people could not reunite the whole family, even if there were occasional happy moments of reunion,The smile on his face is also subtle. Perhaps it was the unsatisfactory life of one or two of our children that offset his feeling of happiness in his heart. Or perhaps, the suffering of his life made him a habit to be strong alone. We can't touch the deep hidden loneliness behind his loving majesty.
I have no photos of my father in Xinjiang, but my mother’s table of life is not a vague photo of him. A faint smile made me feel a sense of fear and strangeness every time I saw it when I returned to my hometown. Only the countless times in my dreams are faces that are clear and familiar, which made me cry apologetically, and then woke up my father who could not sleep for a long time.
If he is still alive, he is also an old man with his children and grandchildren at the age of elders. Can some regrets be made up? But there is no if in this world, I can only take this opportunity to express my miss for him.
I miss my father.
Author: The Great Rush of Western Regions
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