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In the past, when I was eager to grow up, he always joked with me and said, "Son, you grow up, Dad is old." His tone is faint, trying to hide that faint sentimentality, young as I, sensitive as me, I actually heard that sadness, but I didn��t think it at that time, naively thought: I��m not old enough to grow up, how old I grew up, then he didn��t talk much. But Wenrun, like the spring of March, always makes me smile and feels the love of my father Online Cigarettes. The cold paragraphs he told me are flashing the wisdom of life. It always makes me laugh for a long time and feel good life. . So when he was "old" with me year after year, I also disapproved year after year, and secretly laughed at him. For many years, in my eyes, he is not old. But on that winter night, I suddenly realized that he had become so old. It was just a winter afternoon. It was cloudy and cloudy. From time to time, there was a star of snow in the rain Cigarettes For Sale. Our family drove back home and prepared to stay alone. A grandfather staying at home for a while. The mountain road is very steep. On the way, the slope is steep and steep, and the curve is one by one. My father drove the car and was careful all the way. When the car was parked on the concrete floor at the door of the home, I glanced at the watch, it was already half past ten. The sky was dark and the bark was slow and anxious, and the silence of the village at night was only a little bright when the lights at the door were opened. When my father and I opened the trunk and used the same things to get into the house, the mother had entered the stove and made dinner. There are a lot of things, and my father and I moved several times. When we put things in the lock, it was already more than eleven o'clock. My father and I walked into the house. My father told me a joke as usual. When I laughed without heart and lungs, he coughed coldly. I gave him a back and said, "Let you later." It��s not cold, it��s not cold, you still cough, go faster, the house is warmer than the outside!�� As soon as he entered the room, he ran to the stove and rubbed his hands to seek heat. The mother quickly poured him a cup of hot water. Then use both hands to hold the cup to warm. I inadvertently aimed at his head, how is there white, just not already wiped it, then look at his hands, face, forehead, how have been wrinkled, much like the paper folded a few times Traces Marlboro Red, I can't believe it, but I did see it! I don't know if the father can feel the wrinkles and a white hair, but at this moment, it seems that a sharp knife has deeply hurt my heart, so painful, so painful... Contemporary The words of the famous writer Long Yingtai's "Watching" began to echo in my ear: "The so-called father and daughter mother and son, only means that your fate with him is that this life is constantly watching his back and fading away. You stand at the end of the path, watching him gradually disappear into the corner of the path, and he silently tells you with his back: no need to chase him, father, my dear, beloved father, old. Time is over, father takes time Gave me the vicissitudes of life, he will never change the original appearance.
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