At that time, I didn’t understand

In the evening, I heard my father and mother’s quarrel in my sleep. I couldn’t tell the difference between dream and reality. Because my parents always quarreled, and I would hide in the corner and cry, that is, I think maybe Dad doesn’t love me and my mother. If you love me and my mother, then they won’t quarrel. The father walked out of the house in an air. The door closed and woke me up. I got up and looked at my mother’s tears almost every day. I was walking together, I walked up, sat next to my mother, and let my mother lean on my shoulder. Although my shoulders are not as wide as boys, I still want to give my mother a reliance, a eternal dependence.

The next morning, the wind screamed outside, maybe because of the quarrel last night, my mother looked a lot, my mother came to me and said, your father went to work elsewhere, I just '喔'After, squatting and saying anything, I went to pack things up and go to school. When I was planning to go out, I saw my father walking away with a big bag. My heart was uncomfortable, unconsciously. I was already standing beside him. He looked up and looked at me with a surprised expression. I didn't let it flow down in the tears of the eyes. I only said one thing gently; I will help you, my father is low. Head, it seems that I feel that I owe it to me; no, I can do it. As long as you study hard and find a good job in the future, now my hard work is worth it. What a common sentence makes me feel warm. But I told myself in my heart that I hated him because her mother always washed her face in tears, but when he said this, I felt that he loved me and my mother. When I was tangled, my father I’ve been walking outside with my luggage, and I’m in the blink of an eye. My father’s back is so convex, so lonely, the tears can no longer be controlled, and the sighs will flow down. I quickly wiped away the tears, chased them up, followed him, and my father’s hair was a lot white, father. I am working too hard outside the year, maybe I am too tired. I comfort myself and say that my father’s back is deeply imprinted on my mind. My father loves us, but sometimes it is too violent.

In the evening, when I got home, my mother asked me to talk, my mother said; I know that you have great opinions about your father, but you have to remember that Dad loves us. In the past few years, your father has been working outside without any eye, but Still insisting is not for our family, my mother held me in my arms, tears flowed out more unscrupulously.

My father’s love always makes me unpredictable. I can’t understand that it might be love, and my mouth is smiling and sleeping.

Third day: smiling dimple