#文章首发挑战赛#
The years are in a hurry, and the military years have long become a touch of scenery in the depths of memory. When I applied for a job change, the political commissar was like a shadow, and I was unforgettable when I got out of the army. However, the wheels of time pushed everything mercilessly, and the commissar, now leisurely retired, always let me receive him.
After retirement, the political commissar still looks dignified, and although he has lost his military uniform, he still has the temperament of a soldier. Every time I received him, I could feel the deep wrinkles carved on his face by the years, which were traces of the vicissitudes of the military. Perhaps, retirement does not make him let go of everything in the past, but makes him miss those old days more.
We always sit opposite each other in a quiet tea room, as if time is frozen in this moment. The political commissar sat on the chair, his eyes were deep, and sometimes he stared into the distance, as if he was recalling the past, and the scenes of the stormy journey of those years appeared in his mind. I listened in silence and let him roam freely in the world of memories.
Perhaps, in the eyes of the commissar, I was just a young recruit and knew nothing about military life. His strict attitude and mean words made me feel that the road ahead was bumpy and difficult. Now, the years have taken us on different trajectories, and I'm here to welcome his retirement. Perhaps, this is the wonderful use of time, so that the grievances of the past have become indifferent under the washing of the years.
At each meeting, the commissar was always willing to share his stories, those anecdotes about the military years. He talked about the brotherhood between his comrades-in-arms, and about the life and death parting on the battlefield. The bitterness of those years, the tribulations of those years, seem to reappear in his narration, and I seem to be able to smell the smell of gunsmoke.
Perhaps, the retired commissar cherishes these memories even more, they are the most precious treasure of his life. Every time I listen to him, I can feel the light in his eyes, and it is a deep attachment. Perhaps, the war-torn years shaped his tenacious character and forged his endless love for military life.
The smell of tea filled the air, and we fell into a burst of tranquility. Perhaps, at this moment of tranquility, the political commissar really found a harbor to put his soul. After retiring, he was no longer the leader who had strict requirements for the troops, but an old man with a satisfied smile, enjoying a calm and quiet life.
Receiving him became a part of my life, perhaps as fate would have it. We used to be hostile in the military, but now we meet in the passage of time. Perhaps, this is a kind of fate, a reconciliation of time, so that we can face the grievances of the past with a more calm attitude.
Perhaps, every time he comes, it is a baptism of the soul. Perhaps, the retired commissar needs such a companion even more, a partner who can understand the responsibilities and honors he once had. We face each other in the long river of years, and we find each other's past and present selves in each other's eyes.
The retired political commissar is like an ancient book precipitated by history, and I try to listen to his vivid chapters. Perhaps, in his story, I can find more wonderful stories about the military years. And every time, when he leaves, I will look at his back and silently wish him a peaceful old age in the years to come, and no longer be haunted by the shadow of the past.
The years have passed, and the former political commissar has retired to the rivers and lakes. In this quiet tea room, I quietly thought that maybe there will be some convergence in everyone's life, and these intersections will eventually become indifferent in the washing of years. The commissar, the former enemy, has now become an indispensable part of my life, and this is perhaps the most beautiful accident that the years have given us.
#文章首发挑战赛#