April 22, mother's memorial day.
In the twinkling of an eye, another year has passed. Last year, the tomb piled up by loess has also been covered with the lines carved by years. The cyanine crazily extends around and emits dazzling signs of life. Everything seems so alive, but the people lying in the tomb are asleep and let the mouth insects eat her body, and the tired eyes won't blink, Eyelashes also forget the beautiful radian in the air. After all, they still can't wake up, never wake up & hellip& not;
I still remember that at this time last year, I was still nervous about my college entrance examination preparation. I buried my head in the sea of questions every day and seldom went home to greet my parents. My father always reported good news but not bad news. I was still looking forward to seeing my mother smile when I got the notice, but after the college entrance examination, I was facing a pile of cold loess & hellip& not;
I knelt down in front of the grave and cried wildly. My nails fell into the palm of my hand. The bright red liquid swirled and slid along my fingerprints and dropped on the bleary soil. There was a strong smell of blood in the air. The rain flowed through my cheeks along my hair and mixed with tears, laying small nests in front of the grave.
I grabbed the high mound with my hand like crazy. I wanted to ask my mother why she was so cruel that she didn't let me see the last side; Why let me live my life with guilt; Why even I am the last one to know; Why do you see that I am getting wet and can still lie there calmly and indifferent; Why is it so cruel that I will be accompanied by missing every day in the future? Why, why, why & hellip; God doesn't open his eyes& not;
The father said, don't be too sad. My mother has gone to heaven. Perhaps leaving the world is a relief from the entanglement of disease, from the pain that penetrates into the bones every night, and from the endless mental torture& not;
I don't know what kind of attitude and mood my father used to face the transformation from a person to a tombstone that day, but I can feel that the old heart is shaking. One should keep the old wishes of two people, one should carry the endless thoughts, and one should spend more years relying on those yellow memories and look at the white hair on his head, Count the distant deadline for meeting on the road from the Yellow Spring & hellip& not;
Heaven & hellip; Does it really exist? The sky in early summer is occasionally blue, exposing my sorrow to infinite magnification. Every time I look up to the sky at a 45 degree elevation, I am looking for my mother's figure, but there is no trace in the sky except floating white clouds. But my father said that my mother would be in heaven and live happily. I believe in my father, so I believe in heaven& not;
Quietly in the afternoon, I like to lie alone in the sun and look at the sky through my fingers. Is the mother of heaven okay? I have a lot to say. The sky has become my only audience. When I am wronged, I will also shed hot tears. The breeze instead of my mother brushed my cheek and dried my tears. When there is no mother around, when you cry, you will always look up and let the tears flow back to your heart. On sunny days, I always take time to talk to the sky. In plum rain season, I will worry about whether my mother, like me, has found a roof that can shelter from the wind and rain, wait for the rain to stop, and find the way home & hellip& not;
I am an unfilial child. I even forgot my mother's memorial day. In her lifetime, I didn't wash her feet, weave a warm scarf, say a kind word to her, give her a good face, always don't know how to make her angry, don't do my due filial piety, and don't let her enjoy the happiness of her family & hellip& not;
The night is deep, and the hot tears soak the paper full of memory, blurring the edges and corners of the font, but the missing is precipitated in the silent night and engraved in the deepest part of my mind. Put down the pen, carefully put the letter into the ancient ink scented envelope, put the signature 'to the mother of heaven' into the bottomless box, and press the dusty five letters & hellip& not;
I will live well, smile brightly every day, and have learned to be strong. I won't easily fall cowardly tears in front of people. I think I have grown up and don't need anyone's pity. I will break into my own life. Even if I cry, I will smile & hellip& not;
In my dream, the mother of heaven is looking at my letter & hellip& not;