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发表时间:2021-02-23 14:32










In the busy life day after day, there will always be countless people. However, how many people really "meet"?

Since I was young, my father has rarely appeared in my life. It seems that I am a stranger to him and have never met.

It is precisely because of this "similar to a stranger" that there seems to be something separated between me and him. Other people's fathers, anyhow still have strict love, often beat and scold. And my father didn't even scold me. The only way he expresses his feelings for me is when he is happy occasionally, he rubs my forehead with his chin covered with steel pins and sometimes he hugs me. I shrink my body every time. When I got up and tried to avoid his embrace, he would suddenly notice my reluctance. The man's smile froze, his hand gradually retracted, and then I could only see his figure disappearing behind the door... I have never met him.

Later, I realized that it was not that he did not care about me, but that I never went...

The full but chilling moon hung in the sky, and I deliberately walked very slowly, following a small figure. As I walked, I complained in my heart: I went to the bathhouse to "enjoy", why should I take me to suffer? But I could only follow silently. Under the dimly yellow street lamp, two "strangers" were walking.

However, looking at the person in front of him, I found that he seems to be much shorter than before. His original vigorous pace is now much slower. Why?

Father still wants me to wipe his back. Humph! I really enjoy it. But when I looked behind him, I was stunned. He was lying there, but now he looked like an old man. The skin on his arm is loose, and the green veins are wrapped around his arm like vines. How could this be his arm? Could it be... I rubbed it hard, but my father suddenly called it pain and told me to lighten it. I remembered: When I was a child, my father wiped my back, and I screamed with pain...I was growing up, but I didn't realize that my father was also aging day by day. why?

It's for me! He is busy all day, isn't it for me? But I blame him for not caring about me, thinking that I have never "meeted" with him. In fact, as early as the beginning of life, I met his soul, but I never realized it.

Thank you for meeting you, my father.

文章分类: 写人



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