Silent love prose

That morning, I went to my parents' house to get my mother's salted eggs. I called in advance. My mother said that she bought food in the supermarket and wrapped it for me. Let me get it. On my way to work, I turned to my parents' house. First, I saw my father's "old car" parked under a small tree downstairs, so I knocked on the door upstairs with confidence.

There was no response to knocking at the door, so I rang the doorbell impatiently. After a loud doorbell, I listened on the door, expecting to hear my father's footsteps, but I heard nothing. I know, bicycles are the legs of dad with bad legs and feet. The bike is there. He must be there. Maybe he is in the kitchen or on the north balcony now. He is a little deaf and can't hear me knocking at the door at all.

No way, I went downstairs again, stood by my father's bike, looked up at my parents' house on the second floor, and just saw my father on the north balcony. It's already very hot in the summer morning. Wearing a white vest, he is wiping the wooden box and windowsill of the north balcony with a rag. At the age of 70, he moves very slowly, jumping and jumping, as if in a TV series. I didn't call him, not for fear that he couldn't hear me, but because I couldn't bear to disturb my father's seemingly monotonous but fulfilling labor happiness, so I stood downstairs and continued to see him.

There is a dowry box on the north balcony, where two mothers get married. There are old clothes in it, and each one is full of memories. Although they can't wear them now, mothers are always reluctant to give them away or throw them away. There are large and small plates and baskets on the box, as well as green and healthy fruits and vegetables that my father bought from the near and far market. Outside the window of the north balcony is a circle of wrought iron guardrail, and there is a prominent one below, where my father's flower treasures-all kinds of cacti are placed.

After packing the box, my father cleaned the windowsill and looked at the cactus outside through the screen window, but I didn't see me standing under the tree. At the moment, he is immersed in the comfort of cleaning the house. I can't see his expression clearly through the distance of two floors, but I know that although he only did such a small thing, he must be sweating profusely. After all, time and tide wait for no man. What's more, every time he stands for a while and takes one more step, the severely worn knee joint will reflect the severe pain that has accompanied him for many years.

Thought of here, my tears swirled in my eyes. Daughters are all grown up, but parents are old. No matter how much love we have, we can't always be together. This is the helplessness of growth. What I miss is not only a time together, but also the expression of love again and again.

My mother seems to guess that my hard-of-hearing father won't hear me knocking at the door. She trotted back with a chubby body and food in her hand.

Seeing me standing under the tree, my father was still cleaning the windowsill, and my mother was habitually nagging. Your father was too deaf and his vest was back. I told him you were coming, but I didn't know how to wait at the door. I quickly said nothing. I'm in no hurry to go to work. It's really nothing

After entering the door, I went straight to the north balcony. Sure enough, I saw my father sweating and a thick plaster on his bare knee. He leaned one hand against the edge of the box, and the other hand was still struggling to wipe the window frame. Seeing me, he quickly said, the eggs are on the table, and your mother has wrapped them. Take them to work quickly! Don't be late.

Mother followed, put the food on the box and kept nagging, but you just wouldn't listen. It's your fault that you kept the child waiting downstairs for so long. But my father didn't hear this. He staggered to the kitchen and began to check how the corn porridge was made. My mother opened the freezer to help me get steamed bread, saying that the beans I bought were fresh and let me get some.

Hearing this, I especially want to stay, help my parents clean up and listen to their nagging. Maybe my father couldn't hear my response at all, but he was happy that I could sit there and listen.

But I have to go again. It's almost time for work. Mom cleaned me up quickly and then walked me to the door. At this time, my father has turned on the TV to record the weather forecast, which is his habit, just like he has to clean the furniture, cook three meals and go for a walk by bike every day.

Mom turned around and said, your father is old and deaf. Just like your grandmother. I "hmm" and hurried downstairs.

Looking back at the north balcony, my mother was already standing there. She waved at me and I said "Let's go" loudly. I don't know if she heard it, just like I didn't always hear what she said on the north balcony, but I feel very comfortable when I have the opportunity to say it. Even if I can't hear it, it's love.

two

A few years ago, I answered "children's education" in the Q&A area of a website. It was a purely voluntary service process without any material gains, but I did it for more than two years. What supports me is the communication process with children and their parents from all over the country. In this process, it seems that the other party is asking questions and I am answering them. In fact, I saw the question and answered it according to my own experience, which is also a kind of combing of my past. What did I do when this happened? What are the gains and losses?

In this process, I met many like-minded people, and some became QQ friends and talked for so many years. The former junior high school students are now high school students, and the former high school students have now entered the university gate. Their children's parents have grown up like my children now.

Because I helped them, they always trusted me. Although I don't do question-and-answer work now, they will still leave messages to express their confusion at this moment, and I will give them some help according to my knowledge.

I recently wrote a novel "I'm sorry, I love you from now on" and put it in my space. To my surprise, this novel caused a great response. Many people left pertinent comments and some friends left messages for me. One of them is a friend. She said that she was moved to see the novel. Now she is hesitating to divorce and leave this loveless home. But when she saw that the divorced woman in my novel missed her children, she hesitated. She doesn't know what the right choice is.

To tell the truth, novels are novels, reality is reality, and novels come from reality, but reality is far more complicated and unpredictable than novels. Especially in the face of the choice of whether a family exists, I didn't directly say my suggestion, but kept asking her why she divorced. Do you have any difficulties?

It seems that she has been depressed for too long. She asked me several times if you are free now. After I got a positive answer, she began to talk about her marriage. From the beginning, my parents didn't agree to insist on marrying her husband, until she gave birth to a deaf-mute child after marriage and was rejected by her husband, and now her husband's beating and cursing made her unbearable, which really made me creepy. I'd rather all this just stay in the novel, and the reality is still a beautiful world, but when it really happens, I know it's inevitable and there is no choice. Whatever it is, we have to face it.

After talking a lot, she seems to be calmer. She said she wanted to break up, but she couldn't bear to part with the children. The child is still so young. If she leaves, who will love him? If she wants to take him away, her husband will never allow it, which puts her in a dilemma.

I said, the child is innocent, don't let go of the child's hand easily.

She said, really? The child is so pitiful. He is congenital deafness. He has no auricle. He can't even wear a hearing aid, and he will live in a silent world all his life.

Hearing this, I feel a heavy heart. I really want to help her, but I really don't have relevant educational experience. So I can only give her advice based on what I met in my life and saw on TV: Have you ever heard of sign language and lip language? Sign language is the language of the deaf. If you can, go to Xinhua Bookstore to buy some materials and teach him yourself. When the child is old enough, send him to a special school. Lip language is a language that can be distinguished by observing people's lips when they speak. This is more difficult and should also require professional training. Don't give up, take your time and teach your children bit by bit. As long as there is love, he can feel it even if he can't hear it.

She said, sister, you don't even know that your child is discriminated against by other children and rejected by your biological father. He's pathetic. He doesn't understand anything I say, and neither do I. It seems that we are from two different worlds. How can we get into his heart? How the hell are we going to start?

While chatting with her, I went to Baidu, where I found many tutorials and books on sign language. When I learned that her home was in the countryside, I began to help her find books about Joyo. I want to buy it for her. Before I could say it, she said with surprise as if she had discovered a new continent, great. There are such books. I must hurry to buy it. Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.

She also said that she would buy it online or go to Xinhua Bookstore in the county, and she would do anything to help the children.

Hearing this, I put away what I had said on my lips. What she needs is a direction and a listener. If you help her too much, it may make her feel distant, or give her a kind of pressure, which will make her feel at a loss.

At this time, she stopped talking about divorce and devoted herself to the education of her children with joy.

I think, compared with her husband's disappointment, her guilt about her children makes her sad and distressed, but she just doesn't know how to express it. This is a kind of pain, an endless torture. The child's deafness is unpredictable and accidental, but if you choose to give up, it will become a lifelong injury and a lifelong pain.

It's comforting to see her like this, for the sake of this unhappy woman and the child who can't hear anything. Fortunately, there is love, although he can't hear it.

three

Not long ago, I met a net friend. I am a woman who loves to laugh in real life. I also hope that all people who meet by chance can be happy.

That netizen is a bookworm, but it is inconvenient for his family to buy books in the countryside. As for me, I am also a person who likes books, but many books are really shelved when I buy them, and I seldom read them repeatedly. So I think, loving books doesn't care about having them forever, but whether you meet someone who likes reading.

So, I offered to say, I'll send you a copy of Time. Because of my love for fleeting time, he agreed happily. Soon, I chose SF Express and sent the book. He also quickly replied that he had received the book and said that he liked it very much. I am very happy because of this sharing.

A few days later, I wanted to give him other books, so I sent them to him by express. He said, you send them, I'll get them.

I subconsciously asked: where to get it?

He said that because his home was in the countryside, he didn't send express delivery, not even to counties and cities, so he had to go to the transfer station in the city to pick it up. I asked him how much it would cost, and he said that the ticket from his home to downtown was around 20 yuan, and it would cost more than 30 yuan to take a taxi and come back by car. It costs more than 70 yuan to get a courier.

Hearing his explanation, my heart suddenly tightened, and I asked: Did you win back your time in this way?

He said, my sister is fine. I just went to the city on business and picked it up by the way.

He said it lightly, as if he didn't want to burden me, but I quickly calculated in my mind that even if I went to the city on business, the thirty dollars I took a taxi to get was an extra reward. In other words, my book Time flies made him pay so much for his meager income.

I quickly asked, what express can be delivered to my home, or something more expensive. He has always said that there is nothing wrong with it, as long as he has books to read, he will be happy!

Seeing that he didn't say anything, I suddenly remembered that for remote areas, no express delivery can reach them. However, my courier has been sent and cannot be recovered. What should I do? So, I went online to inquire about the express outlets and express service telephone numbers in Cangzhou and other cities, and the answer I got was that I could only send them to the city transfer station and pick them up myself.

I asked other friends, and they told me that they could transfer it to a "postal parcel" so that it could be sent to a town near him, so that even if he couldn't get it at home, he wouldn't have to spend so much money and time to pick it up in the city.

So, I contacted the express customer service and told him the express number. I turned the courier into a "parcel" by paying the other party the same amount of mobile phone fees. After seven days of anxious waiting, these books finally reached his hands.

He said thank you, and I said it would be good to receive it.

I didn't tell him the twists and turns, but simply said, if I send it to him by express in the future, I will choose a more suitable way.

I have never said this kind of love. Although he is far away from Qianshan and can't hear it, love and existence know each other.

four

Yesterday, my husband and grandmother visited relatives on March 7 and couldn't go back to work. We called to say we were sorry. My mother-in-law says it's good that you are busy at work. Grandma knew your kindness before she died. Even if you can't come back now, she won't blame you. Don't worry!

Hearing my mother-in-law say so, my heart is sour. Although my grandmother was 9 1 year old, she died of natural causes. But for our children and grandchildren, it is still so reluctant to leave.

Grandma gave birth to eight children, and six survived, three boys and three girls. The youngest daughter was the same age as the eldest grandson. And pass it on from generation to generation. Great-great-grandson is five years old, and five generations live under one roof.

Grandpa died ten years ago. Originally two people lived alone, but now she is the only one left, so she gave the old house to her nephew and took turns living with several children. My father-in-law left for two days, and my uncle died long ago. Grandma will decide for herself how long she will live in, and make sure that no one is biased, and no one will live in the near future.

When grandpa was alive, grandma was in poor health and had been ill. She looked like a different person after grandpa died of sudden cerebral congestion. Besides her legs and feet, she needs crutches. She is deaf and blind, so she can not only take care of herself, but also help to look after the house and take care of her young great-grandson.

Something happened at home, and she was just like a "She Taijun". She is very reasonable and impartial, which makes all her children very convinced. Even if there is a little contradiction, after her reconciliation, the two sides will soon be happy and reconciled.

In, two sons lived together for a year; When she felt exhausted, she went to my father-in-law's house without saying anything. Everyone guessed that grandpa died in her father-in-law's house, and she had a hunch that she was in poor health and would die in her uncle's house. In this way, I have two sons and a family.

In fact, children don't care about this. I saw my frail grandmother, three aunts, my parents-in-law, uncles and aunts. They worked together, some of them never left her side, and there were many chores, such as where to call a doctor, where to buy what grandma wanted, and to help her make a light and warm quilt to make her more comfortable. Seeing that grandma's illness is getting worse every day, they reluctantly get together to discuss grandma's affairs. Tears flowed before the words, while tidying up, comforting myself: nothing, this is a happy event, and she will definitely get better.

Those who had planned to go out to work also changed their plans. No matter how busy they are in a day, they should go and have a look every night. Grandma has been awake, and staying in bed has accelerated her aging. Because of heart failure and difficulty breathing, she had to sleep on her stomach. No matter who goes, talk to her and make her happy. I remember we went to see her and talked about five generations living under one roof, and grandma counted five generations of grandchildren with her fingers. I counted it several times, all four generations, but I can't remember the five generations. We all say forget it, it's all old-fashioned, forget it. But grandma pondered for a long time, and finally said happily: I remember, it's a grandson, a great-grandson, a tired grandson, an ox hair grandson, a drooping grandson, and five generations of grandchildren.

I counted it with my finger, and it was true. I said, if I see five grandchildren, I will live to be at least 100 years old! Most people really can't see it.

Grandma was tired after talking for a while, fell asleep in a daze, and we left. The husband can't help but sigh, alas, the years are really terrible, so he takes a person's life bit by bit, leaving the people watching helpless.

After that, grandma, who couldn't eat and couldn't afford infusion, inevitably died bit by bit. The news came in the middle of the night. We turned on the lights at home and began to pack our clothes, ready to go home.

My husband couldn't help crying. I said, it is a good life for grandma to enjoy life! But grandma's words rang in my ear again: you came! Stay. Don't go. This is what she will say every time we go back, expecting us to stay longer every time; Go back and say hello to your mother! Every time we leave, she will hold my hand and say this. Grandma has never met my mother, but she chose this way to express her love for me and my family. Although it was just a reminder, it made me understand that persistence and love.

Grandma left, and then she went home without guards. With grandma gone, grandpa is no longer lonely. They have been together for so long, separated for so long, and finally they can be together for a long time.

Looking at the tomb covered with white paper and wreaths, I wanted to say something, but I didn't say it. I know grandma can't hear you, but she still looks at us understandingly and protects us as always.

five

The society in the year of water loss belongs to Jiangshan. Established two years and nine months ago, it has published 12 137 articles, including 6954 excellent articles and 3 excellent articles1. There are 30 editors from all walks of life and different cities, 10 more than consultants, review directors and commentators, and hundreds of regular authors. At present, it ranks first among 48 associations in Jiangshan.

These are figures about the fleeting years. For those who are new to the fleeting time, these numbers represent the fleeting time, but for those of us who are rooted in fleeting time, these are the marks left by our hearts. Every article, every reading, every comment, the editor has devoted all his efforts. Face praise and appreciation with an open mind, and accept criticism and suggestions sincerely, that is, with everyone's concern and encouragement, grow sturdily day by day.

The fleeting time has become an inseparable part of all fleeting people, a subtle habit that invades their families and becomes a part of every fleeting family. Husband will be jealous and express his jealousy again and again. A wife will spy out what attracts her husband. Children will gradually understand how glorious a father or mother's career is. Parents will gradually understand that children's writing is more than just entertainment.

Describe our family, describe the places we have been, describe our feelings about life, and describe novels and stories based on life. We are all describing ourselves when we wave our fingertips. Isn't this what our parents, wives, husbands and children want to see: gratitude to their families and cherish their lives? We are describing and sharing. Once the full positive energy is released, it will spread out in geometric multiples and infect more and more people.

This is the meaning of our writing, the existence of our fleeting time, and the existence of Jiangshan. In a noisy network ocean, stick to a simple self, publicize the true meaning of love in the cold and indifferent air, and bloom a warm flower in every journey of life. This flower does not need to be enchanting or fragrant, as long as it gives off a warm fragrance.

This kind of love, you don't need to say it, you don't need to hear it, it just exists.