My unforgiveable mother

In my dreams, I still see my mother's tears. I remember my mother as a strong woman who had never shed a few tears, but why was she in tears in my dream?

　　When I think of my mother talking about how lonely she is at home alone, I feel a tug at my heart. Because my brother is in junior high school, my father is often out of town, and I am in high school, I seem to feel that I have been away from home for a long time. Every time I left my mother alone, I was afraid that the home, which was not very big, was empty and silent in my mother's eyes. I know my mother is waiting for me to come home, waiting for my daughter to listen to your silence and sighs.

　　After I went to high school, I seemed to grow up all of a sudden. My mother laughed and said, "I can come home without rushing from the fields and worrying about being too busy with no one to wash the clothes at home, because you are home". So my mother always smiled and praised my daughter for growing up, I smiled and did not say a word, knowing that my mother was busy with farm work and household chores is really not easy to see my mother getting older and thinner back, as a daughter, how can I bear it? I should do something. I only did a little bit, my mother felt a lot of relief, but my mother paid for the family for so many years, who ever remembered to thank her? Maybe this is the loneliness in a mother's heart.

　　The summer nights are hot or cool, my mother likes to go out for a walk, and as long as I am home, I will accompany her to go for a walk by the Ba River next to the house. I remember many quiet evenings, with the sound of the river's flowing water, the chirping of small insects in the grass near the river, I accompanied my mother to walk past the river and back, carrying her nagging words all the way, without me having to speak, just needing me to listen quietly. The things that my mother said were nothing but right and wrong, good and bad, and whenever things were not as they should be, I said to myself that I had nothing to say, not knowing how to console my mother, thinking that maybe it was useless to console her, and how to let go of my mother's worried heart? The only thing I can do is to listen hard to my mother's heart in the midst of her broken chatter, and listen hard to her simple heart of labor.

　　The mother is always relieved or us, often call home, ask warmth and ask what we have eaten or not eaten. However, every time I was impatient, I said back: We are not children anymore, we know how to take care of ourselves! When my mother first heard this, she was speechless for a moment, and then she said she was overly concerned. I think how disappointed my mother was at that time, my ignorant impulses will be her concern back to life; perhaps my mother still have some consolation, after all, children will grow up to take care of themselves.

　　I never knew how my mother thought, rarely communicated with her, only blame and reprimand, the best attitude to mother is to listen to her in silence. In the winter afternoons after a busy day, my father used to take a nap and my brother used to play outside, so my mother asked me to sit with her in the warmth of the sun, in the slight chill and tumble of the dust, to tell me about the past. When I was a child, I cried and cried, and my brother's scolding and scolding, and was whipped hard by my mother, and had my father painstakingly lecture me, in between my mother's broken thoughts, I remembered my childhood. At that time, the young mother was short-tempered, always beating and scolding, since I grew up obstinate and crying, naturally received a lot of beatings from my mother, so that later and mother from confrontation to raw, from quarrels to speechless. I can't help but ask myself who is wrong between me and my mother when I experience other people's mother-daughter love scenes. Why do I still not want to forgive my mother?

　　I remember the time my mother came to visit me at school, "I saw the beads of sweat on her forehead and asked about the warmth, and suddenly I didn't know what to say. My mother said, "Is this week off? The family has killed the New Year pig." I didn't answer her, and fell into a long-lost but unmemorable memory, catching my mother's breath, feeling her heartbeat, quietly smelling her taste, and silently treasuring her warmth. Only at this time, I feel connected to my mother's blood, no separation of the heart, to taste the mother's love for her daughter.

　　The first time I saw a woman, she was a woman with a smile on her face, and I had grown up, and my mother was getting older. The older me would impatiently complain about my mother's nagging, but the older mother would only look at her daughter with a smile. The older me gradually understood my mother's difficulties and hard work, the older mother has already forgiven her daughter's misunderstanding and resentment towards her. I grew up listening to my mother's deep love in a silent way, and my aging mother is used to her daughter's silent companionship and heart-to-heart communication.