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Vernacular Prose: My Father - The 100th Anniversary of My Father's Birth

Vernacular Prose: My Father - The 100th Anniversary of My Father's Birth

Text: Zhai Chengqi

  It's been almost 30 years since my father died, and I've always wanted to write something in memory of my father, but I don't know where to start because there are so many things to write about. Although I wrote a few short essays about my father's remembrance during this period, it was never enough to comfort my heart of gratitude to my father. One of my favorite songs is "Father" sung by Yu Junjian, and he sang it to my eyes. Every time I hear the children's version of "A Thousand Loves", I can't cry. Who wrote this song? Who would sing so hard?

—Epigraph

My father was born on the third day of the lunar month in 1925 in a poor peasant family. He is the third of three brothers and the eldest of the three brothers, and he also has the eldest disabled sister. My father was physically strong and intelligent since he was a child, and he entered a private school since he was a child, studying the "Four Books and Five Classics" and learning the "Algorithm Sect Encyclopedia". At the age of twelve, he was able to drive a plow and follow his uncle to work as a day laborer for the landlord, and became a strong laborer in the family. Both his uncle and father went to school for a few years, and they could not only read and break words, but also write better calligraphy, and even measure the land, so they should have been regarded as an outstanding cultural person at that time, and the family still keeps the books he read when he was in school and the inscriptions he copied.

His father was a dutiful son, and after his uncle was killed by Kuomintang reactionaries in 1946, he took the initiative to take on the burden of living for a large family of nine. For him, there were both elderly parents who lost their son, a sister-in-law who lost her husband, an eight-year-old nephew who lost her father, an infant niece, and a second brother and sister-in-law who were only two years older than him, and he himself was not yet twenty-one years old, when my mother was married. Since my uncle was a member of the Communist Party of China, our family naturally became a "red bandit" family. In the autumn of 1947, the second uncle was arrested by the Kuomintang and had to pay for a gun himself. At that time, a gun cost 1.8 million, and it was barely enough to sell almost everything in the house. At that time, I had no idea how much 1.8 million was worth now. The key is that the misfortune is not a one-way street, but the second uncle lost his gun when he was standing guard. At that time, if you lose your gun, you will be buried alive. The father, who was in refuge in other places, tried everything to buy another gun and saved the life of the second uncle. At this time, the "home" had long since died in name. It wasn't until the second liberation of Qufu in 1948 that my father dared to go home, and the family got together again. At that time, his grandparents were still alive, and the livelihood of a large family fell on him and his second uncle. At that time, the second uncle was arranged to dig coal in the small coal kiln of Babaoshan in Fangshan. It is precisely because of the leadership of the Communist Party of China that our family has survived the most difficult period, and it is precisely because of this that the second uncle and father have strengthened their belief in following the party and joined the Communist Party of China one after another. It wasn't until 1958 that a dozen people in the cafeteria split up. Up to now, it is precisely because of the emotional foundation laid by our father that the people of my uncle's family, my second uncle's family, and our family are very united, and the family relationship is far more than that of other families.

The father loved his children very much, and gave birth to four boys and two girls in his life, and the eldest son died of pneumonia when he was more than a year old. This incident hit him hard, so he went to the hospital as soon as the child was sick, and as long as there was a vaccination, he had to take it. His second daughter, who is also my second sister, was more than four years old because of an accident and drowned, and when he saw it, he hugged it tightly, never let go, and couldn't cry.

In my memory, as long as there is something delicious, we must eat it, but he himself is reluctant to eat a little. During the New Year and festivals, we should eat as much delicious as possible. The most unforgettable thing for me is that around the first day of the tenth lunar month in 1985, after noon on Saturday, he took me home on a rather shabby bicycle. At that time, I was already in my third year of high school, and he rode more than 20 miles to Qufu No. 1 Middle School, without drinking water or eating. He took me by bicycle to Dongguan in Qufu, which is the place he knows best. He got out of the car and said he was taking me for a bite to eat. I said don't eat it, go home and eat it. But he said that he couldn't pedal, and I wanted to say that I was riding, but I didn't dare to say more. I know he actually wanted me to eat something good. I didn't say no more, it was the most reassuring and happiest meal I ever had. He drank more than two taels of loose liquor from Qufu, we asked for two dishes, and we also asked for dumplings, neither of us ate much, and the rest was packed and taken home. Since then, whenever we come out together, the happiest thing is to eat together at a restaurant. It was my father who taught me to drink, and he taught me the rules of drinking. After I joined the work, I had to go to the Qufu Xiguan Distillery every year before the Spring Festival to get 20 catties of the best loose liquor, and the mellow aroma was probably unattainable for 200 yuan a bottle of liquor now. Now that I think about it, I really regret not having to drink with him a few more times. When I was admitted to Jining Normal College in 1986, his joy was beyond my description.

Our father's love for us goes far beyond what is required of us. As far back as I can remember, my father only hit me once. It was one winter, and after school, I went to the reservoir alone to skate, which was very dangerous and the ice was thin and deep. I was spotted by my father, who was passing by, and he beat me up. After my father beat me, he held me tightly in his arms with tears in his eyes.

For the sake of the family, for our group of children, my father does not know how much hard work he has paid. My father did all the farm work. My father's hands were very thick and clumsy, but he was actually quite dexterous, and he was very good at everything, and he was very good.

During the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression, under the influence of his uncle Zhai Bingchang, his young father joined the Chinese Communist Children's League, served as the head of the Wanliuzhuang Village Children's League, and later served as the Youth League, actively participating in revolutionary activities such as fighting local tyrants and dividing land. After the surrender of Japanese imperialism in August 1945, Qufu was liberated for the first time, and the party organization and party members changed from secret to open. In August 1946, the Kuomintang reactionaries counterattacked, and my uncle was killed by the Kuomintang reactionaries, and my father was forced to flee to Yanzhou Winery for refuge. At that time, if he was caught, he would not have survived. In 1948, after the second liberation of Qufu, my father returned to the village, continued to participate in the revolutionary work, and served as the financial grain of Daguanzhuang Township of Qufu County (equivalent to the director of the township finance department), and was elected as a representative of the People's Congress of Daguanzhuang Township in 1953, during which he joined the Communist Party of China, and was stationed in Chengzhuang Village, Fangshan Township for many years, responsible for the leadership of Daguanzhuang Township during the natural disaster, and was in charge of the three grain depots of Daguanzhuang, Tumen and Chengzhuang, and tried to ensure that no one starved to death, which was praised by the masses. After 1960, my father returned to Wanliuzhuang Village to serve as an accountant in the brigade. According to the needs of the work, he was reappointed as the accountant of a production team in Wanliuzhuang; He was persecuted during the "Four Qing" and "Social Education" periods, but he always firmly believed in the Communist Party of China, and after finding that there was no problem, he was appointed as the management of the orchard team of the Wanliuzhuang Brigade, leading the orchard team members at that time to fertilize, prune fruit trees, spray pesticides, thin fruits, pick, and sell fruits, laying a relatively rich economic foundation for the development of the brigade's sideline business. In 1976, he served as the director of the brigade (equivalent to the director of logistics), responsible for the management and purchase of the brigade's property, responsible for the purchase of large equipment such as threshers, tillage tools, tractors, etc., and did a lot of work for the construction and development of the brigade......

My father was a very reasonable and enthusiastic man, and he had a high prestige in the village. Whoever has a conflict, whether it is a brother splitting the family, or the family property cannot be handled, he will carefully mediate, and it will not take long for the conflict to be resolved, and the parties are very grateful to my father.

Being upright, having a fair heart, sticking to principles, not being afraid of things, and not bowing to difficulties is also the character of a father. I admired my father's memory and eloquence, and in my memory, as long as it was something he went through, whenever you asked him, he could tell it clearly. One of the things my father said to me the most was "No matter what happens, keep your breath and calm down." This sentence has benefited me to this day. My father has gone through vicissitudes and can be regarded as a tough guy, but his heart is so kind and soft, he can't see the difficulties of his neighbors. As long as he can get by, he will help as much as he can. In the past, when a beggar came to the door, my father and mother always gave the beggar a lot of dried sweet potatoes, and there was nothing else at that time. In fact, our family's life is also very poor. My father often said that only do good deeds, and don't ask about the future.

My father loved life, loved tidiness, and always maintained the habit of hard work. When he was in his seventies, he could still do farm work such as ploughing, harrowing, raking, and raising. My father prefers cleanliness and doesn't want to trouble people, so he always soaks the bowl in the basin after eating. Choosing dishes, brushing pots, and brushing dishes are all things he likes to do. When he has nothing to do, he also likes to play mahjong, push pai gow, and can also recite classic classics such as "Analects", "Disciple Rules" and "Thousand Character Text". It's a pity that I didn't learn from my father at that time, and now I regret it, it's too late.

In the last year, for some unknown reason, my father went to work in the fields in the morning, and when he came back to eat at noon, his throat became hoarse. At first, we didn't take it seriously, thinking that the lack of water would be fine in a few days. But a week or two passed, and he always said that it was fine, and I was not at ease, so I took him to the hospital for examination, and the result was advanced esophageal cancer. The doctor suggested that the best medical treatment was surgery and chemotherapy, but with his physical condition, he may not be able to get off the operating table. My father is a very strong person, and I want to tell him, but I am afraid that he will not be able to accept this fact, so I have been hiding it from him. Now it seems that, according to his knowledge, he should know what disease he has, but he doesn't want us to know, and pretending to be calm is actually afraid that we will be afraid, worried, and even more afraid of spending money, after all, life has just improved. Later, I was sure that my father knew what he was doing and didn't want us to know. And I know my father's illness, and I don't want him to lose his dignity in his last days, and I don't want him to suffer more mentally. We are all weaving our own white lies.

In the last few months, my father became more emaciated and could only eat semi-liquid, liquid foods, and when he could not, he relied on intravenous injections to increase his nutrition.

In the last month, the doctor will try his best to give painkiller injections, and even Durolin will be used. My father grew so thin that he was sometimes delirious. When he was a little sober, he asked this and that, caring and caring for everyone. People outside came to visit him, and he lay under the covers, stretched out his big weak hand to shake hands, smiled reluctantly, and talked to people with difficulty. When people were leaving, he waved his hand to say goodbye. In such a serious situation, my father was still so warm and polite.

In the last few days, my sister, brother, and brother and I worked in pairs, working in black and white. Du Lendin went from one for two days to one for one day, then to one for half a day, and then to one at a time, and finally my father told me with tears and pleading eyes, not to play "music" and "social fire". My heart was already broken, but I couldn't say a word from my tears. Even at this time, his old man still thought that the children should not spend useless money and leave as much wealth as possible for the children.

On his deathbed, he said to his sister, "I have money in my pocket." Two hours later, my sister and I found in his pockets the more than 100 yuan I had prepared for him to catch Nanxinji.

Looking at my dying father, I realized that I was powerless to return to heaven, so I hurriedly called the elder brother of the eldest uncle's family and the elder brother and younger brother of the second uncle's family.

At 7:05 a.m. on the 11th day of the fourth lunar month in 1997, my father's breathing became weaker and weaker, his brows slowly relaxed, and his heart gradually stopped beating. He had three sons, a daughter, and three nephews, and he died at the age of seventy-three. It is said that when a person is in his last breath, a few nephews, nieces, sons, and daughters in front of him are called the successors of several children, that is, the father has seven children.

The ordinary and great father is gone, and he leaves quietly in his sleep with his yearning for life, his concern for his children, and his expectation for a better future for the family. He walked peacefully, as if he had just slept and never left......

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