The last letter

Father never wrote a letter since.

My father was literate and was a postman in our area, who specialized in delivering letters to people. Father was very beautiful, his jet-black hair brushed to the right, and he was dressed in a standard Nika blue suit, which was also in line with his postman's temperament.

My mother, whom I can only see from the picture, has dark, soft hair and many thin, long, small braids, and in my opinion, her mother is extremely beautiful, of course, my father thinks so. My father left early and returned late, but the land my family planted and raised livestock was no less than other people's families, which was all the credit of my mother's busy work. When my father came back in the evening, the family was always properly attached, and my mother always prepared delicious meals and hot foot wash water for him to wash away the fatigue of the day. Later, my father always said, "When your mother is there, the house is warm."

Yes, my mother passed away. It was a winter night, the house was dark, my father grabbed the door, only I was hungry for a day and I was crying, while my mother was lying on the ground next to the earth stove, unconscious. My father hurriedly wrapped my mother in a quilt and put her on a scooter to the hospital, and it was extremely cold that night, and there were dead leaves flying all the way to the ground.

As a result, everyone knows that the mother's rescue is ineffective, and the doctor said: "It is late." The mother hid the angina for three years, and there was no one around when the illness occurred, so it was delayed. The father walked out of the rescue room, slowly crouched down against the wall, at first just bowed his head, can hear the intermittent choking sound, after a while the father untied his clothes, pounded his chest, and shouted: "I'm sorry for you, right... No... Rise up with you..." The long corridor made father's cry even more miserable, but late at night no one could hear it, except for the chilling light.

Since then, my father has never sent a letter again, and he has never written a letter at all. He became an authentic farmer, selling vegetables at home in order to make a living, just like this, my father pulled me up alone, he always said: "Xing'er, the food I cook is not as good as your mother's cooking, the clothes I get for you are not as good as your mother's, after a few years, you are thin, your mother is going to be, and you will definitely scold me."

Later, I worked in the county, bought a house, and married my daughter-in-law. He always told his father to come to live in the county town, and he always resigned: "Silly child, I went to the county town, and your mother came back to talk to whom." I knew that I couldn't help him, so I built a bungalow in the countryside, and I really didn't trust him to live in the old house.

My father didn't write letters, he just went directly to the county to find me, he always had time, but I didn't always have time to pick up. The days of May were always rainy and pouring rain, but my father came silently. The bill I had just submitted was refuted by the leader, and I was scolded, not only to rewrite the bill, but also to write a work review, and it was when I was so annoyed that my scalp was numb, I came to the phone.

"Whoa," I yelled impatiently.

"It's me, Star, I'm at the station, and you have to come and pick you up and bring you a lot of things," said my father.

"Okay, got it," he said and hung up the phone. Looking at the heavy rain outside, there is still a bill that has not been written, so I simply drag it out. It wasn't until after work, when the rain was light, that I remembered that my father was still at the station, so I hurried over.

The station is broken, because most people are now going to the new station in the east of the city, and the peasants carrying sacks in and out are farmers carrying sacks, including my father, of course. I tiptoed in, and everyone was looking at me, but they were actually looking at me in a shiny suit and shoes. The father looked at me and triumphantly introduced to everyone: "My son is here, this is my son..."

"Dad, why is it raining so much, I'm busy."

"It wasn't that big when I came in the morning, and if I didn't bring these self-grown vegetables, it would be broken."

"There are all the ones on these streets, and you don't have to send everything."

"Silly child, what do you buy on the street, isn't it a waste of money?" Father looked at the two sacks and said triumphantly.

When the door was open, the daughter-in-law looked at her father from top to bottom, and when she saw her father dragging mud and water on her feet, she turned around and went back to the room without shouting. The father pestle was there, shook his feet in embarrassment, and said, "Xing'er, there are shoes to change and wash, and I am in a hurry in the morning, and I forgot to bring them." ”

The daughter-in-law loves to be clean, wherever the father goes, she drags it to wherever she goes, and has always said: "Dad, you are so old, the vegetables will be planted a little less, we have to buy here, the county town is so far away, you always come, it is not safe, we don't have so much time to take care of it, there is something to write a letter on the line." "Say anything, hurry up and cook." I hurried to round the field. Father just lowered his eyebrows, and went to the balcony with a dry cigarette bag, and that day, he smoked one bag after another...

The next day, my father said he wanted to go back, and I understood him, so I didn't do much to keep him. He was sent to the station again, and met a goose seller, and his father looked at the goose cub, and his compact face finally opened, and he said, "This goose cub, with such a long neck, must be a breed that will lay eggs." "Seeing that my father liked it so much, he bought a pair for him to go back to raise." Dad, you go back and feed yourself. That's what I said to my father.

In the first half of the second year, my father fell back several times, his appearance was getting worse and worse, he was always coughing, and his daughter-in-law was also talking non-stop, I advised him to recuperate in the hospital in the county, but he always said: "It's okay, my own body is clear, and the family lives comfortably." ”

August and September are the season of maturity, but it is also the time for everything to wither.

Things always came suddenly, and the neighbor's aunt Ma came to the county town to tell me that my father had passed away. I hurried back, and my father lay in bed, just like my mother more than thirty years ago, and the tragedy of my mother also happened to my father, and when I left, there was no one in the family. After taking care of my father's funeral, I took home my father's portrait and put it with my mother's, who was still as beautiful as before, and my father was not very old, but still looked at me so peacefully, looking at his son who had been proud of all his life.

While sorting through my father's belongings, I saw a letter in the small cabinet next to my bed, which I thought must have been my father's last words.

Stars:

The goose cubs bought last year laid eggs, and the jujube trees in the old house also bore dates, afraid of being broken, they were all placed in the dry well of the old house, remember to go home and get it.

Father

This was the last letter my father wrote in his lifetime. It's not just those things that are in the dry well, it's my old father's heavy love for me!