Every festive season, ecstatic, family reunion, happy and harmonious. After getting together, they always parted ways, and their children were worried. My mother got up before dawn to prepare dry food for us to prevent traffic jams on the road from starving. Every pancake or loaf of bread is filled with parental love.
Clinging to it, she burst into tears. But why can't we take our parents to live with us and share the world? How many people can live with their parents?
Maybe the distance is beautiful, and all kinds of sourness comes to mind.
