Old man, are you really gone?

If I had known my father was leaving, maybe I would have paid more attention. Maybe he will listen more carefully to his recitation of ancient poems and complete the additional math problems in the winter and summer workbooks alone during the holidays. I'll pay more close attention to his behavior, jot down certain key things, and jam enough memories into my head for slow access later. Maybe I will behave differently because of this, be a completely different person.

Maybe a kid worth keeping. But to no avail, my father left.

I watched with my own eyes the man's back was getting farther and farther away, until it completely dissipated, and the days without my father multiplied, compared to the time he stayed in my life. Therefore, I often feel that he is not a father, but just a person who only overlapped with me for a short period of time, maybe a friend, maybe a stranger, and finally turned into an old friend. At the moment when it resounded in my heart, the memory collapsed, but the weight seemed to be heavier than the word "father". Old man, are you really gone?

In 1998, I was born in a village deep in the mountains. There are no roads in those places. I had to take a bus, sway around for a few hours, get off at the side of the country road, and then walk on the mountain road for one or two hours to get home. . Young and middle-aged people have all gone out to work, and only the elderly and children are left in the village. My father also worked outside all the year round, but perhaps out of pity and reluctance, in the year I was born, my father returned to the village and spent a short childhood with me. But at that time, the whole world seemed to me like a fairy tale kingdom.

No one inspired me to live in the mountains, I have lived in the mountains since I was born. Looking back now, that house was just a very small wooden frame house, but when I was young, I couldn't even climb the threshold. I often sat at the door waiting for my father to dig orchids to go home. Sometimes he would bring back a beautiful branch for me. After putting down the back basket, he would sit with me on the doorstep, retrieve the smooth and straight branch in my hand, and use a machete to draw even lines, and then skillfully. Delicately peeled off to get a nice intact bark to play with as a whistle for me.

There is a hill behind the house, and there are bamboo forests. When I can't walk, I will follow my father to dig bamboo shoots. There is also a wild chestnut tree growing in a corner. In autumn, my father will take me to pick up chestnuts. He climbs the tree and shakes the trunk, while I pick it up below. Those guys with green thorns all over their bodies didn't dare to hold it hard at all, they would prick their hands, so they had to gently pinch one, put it on the stone next to it, and then find a stone that was easy to smash down, and the chestnut would be smashed open. Peel off the thorny peel and take out the tender fruit inside to eat, the taste is very sweet.

Maybe it was because I liked fruit when I was a child, or my father liked fruit very much, and he was not satisfied with the chestnut tree. He planted plum and peach trees in front of and behind the house, and then used them to graft each other, showing off proudly to the I show off that in the future, plums and peaches will grow on the same tree. So I've been looking forward to it, and although I've never seen it, I think it must be a very great sight. It was created for me by my father, who is omnipotent in my little fairy tale kingdom.

Although he has always lived in the mountains and his feet are often covered in mud, his father is actually a very polite person, and perhaps the two are not contradictory. He taught me to memorize poetry, write and do arithmetic in the yard. Although many poems have been forgotten or mixed up after school, Zhang Ji's "Fengqiao Night Moor" especially remembers it firmly, because he also taught me a song: The moon falls and the black cry is always a thousand years. The wind and frost / The sound of the waves is still the same, but I can’t see the original night / Today’s you and me / How to repeat the story of yesterday / This old ticket / Can I board your passenger ship.

We didn't have a TV at home when I was a kid, so I always thought this song belonged to my father and sang it to make me remember this poem, so I've always kept it in my heart. When I grew up ignorantly, I realized that there are other people singing this song in the world, and then I realized that my father is not unique. But because of my childhood memories, I still think this song is good, and it is always different from other songs. It showed me for the first time that my father in his twenties stood as a straight green pine and sang to the mountain in front of his house, echoing over and over again in the twilight.

For me, it was a strange feeling. I felt that Song was very sad, he was very sad, but I didn't know what he was thinking about. Obviously, his hometown is here, right at his feet, and he could just bow his head. place to see. But I never got a chance to ask the answer again.

I haven't listened to "The Sound of the Wave" again for many years. It was a "premeditated" plan to erase this old friend from my memory, quietly.

One evening I watched "Goodbye Balloon Brother", and the song came again in the film. The host of "Tan Talks Traffic" Officer Tan found the balloon guy who appeared on his show many years ago. He lives in a rented house of 200 yuan, and there are dozens of yuan that have not been paid. In order to invite Officer Tan To eat, he doesn't even eat lunch. It became popular because of the dissemination of the video of singing in the "Tan Talks Traffic" program. Today, the balloon brother stood on the balcony and wanted to sing "The Sound of the Waves" for Officer Tan, but he was interrupted by the neighbor next door as he started talking.

But this song continues to flow in my heart, I seem to see my father standing in front of me again after more than 20 years, standing on the dilapidated balcony, ready to sing "The Sound of the Waves". The life of Brother Balloon is the life when his father left. He earns a living allowance of more than ten or twenty yuan by carrying goods and chats to get by.

He disappeared suddenly one day, leaving home with all my childhood memories.

I haven't heard from him for so many years, maybe just like Brother Balloon, I imagine that one day he will appear in front of me, spread his hands with a smile and say, "If my house was better, I would have wanted to meet you for a long time. "But there is no such day, the people in the film are just ordinary people in the world with a similar fate to him.

Having lost my father, I walked out of my fairy tale kingdom early, but also kept it intact. The bark that makes the whistle is still as soft as when my father first peeled it off. The green chestnuts are sweet. The bamboo shoots behind the house sprout out after the rain. The top, and finally bear peaches, plums.