To my mother

In elementary school, I wrote that my mother was working for my neighbors, lending money to relatives and so on, and finally ending with "This is my mother, ordinary and great mother." Until this year, when my mother passed away and suddenly wanted to write another article about her, I had no choice but to pick up my pen several times and it was difficult to fall, but the tears kept flowing. My mother is sometimes young and sometimes old, sometimes wearing reading glasses in front of the sewing machine to beat her rag head, sometimes twisting my ears to count me down, sometimes...!

Everything will eventually pass away, just like the clouds in the sky are scattered and uncertain, and the clutch is not by my will. It's just that it is inevitable to regret in the heart, regret is not more, hate after becoming a family and then ignore the mother in order to work hard for life. "The son wants to be nurtured and the relatives are not there" is a weight that I cannot bear but I have to bear.

A few days ago, I met an old lady downstairs who is 91 years old and has just lost her wife. She said that they had been married for more than 70 years, and their only goal in life was to hope that their children would live a better life and never think about how they lived. I couldn't help but think of my mother, which is a common disease of parents in the world. Yes, people can't live in memories all the time, you can be bitter and regretful, but you can't live in the smog forever. The love given by the mother is selfless, and you have to live well to be worthy of the mother.

Mom If there is an afterlife, I will still be your son, rejoicing under your knees, enjoying your ear twisting. If there is an afterlife.... Will there be...? I firmly believe there will be.