I talked to my dad yesterday. My father said that he would go to Guilin next week. He wanted to go back to the old house and clean up the house. He said that the weeds in the yard were taller than people, and he would have trouble going back alone, so he didn't plan to go back. When we were on vacation, we would go back together to clean up.
I told my mom about this. My mother sighed and said: Don’t go back or take a look when you have time. I haven't been at home for too long, and the pot at home probably has rusted. I don’t know if the quilt is damp or not. When you have a holiday during the Chinese New Year, your dad and I will go back to clean up.
Actually, I miss home too. After counting, I left my hometown at the age of 14. In the blink of an eye, more than 20 years have passed. When my parents were still at home, they could go back and take a look during festivals and holidays. We have never been back since our parents left our hometown. But occasionally, my parents went back to take a look, remove the weeds in the yard and sweep the dust in the house. At that time, my uncle still lived next door, and when they came home, they could still have my uncle help. Now the uncle and his family have left, and they have gone to the city to take care of their grandson. The brothers' old house looks even more lonely.
