Under the sunset, my father's receding figure appeared smaller and smaller.

by uins9665 on 2010-04-28 15:04:44

My father is 70 years old and he is increasingly like a big child. When he walks, his legs shuffle along the ground making a loud sound. Listening from outside the house, it doesn't sound like an old man walking but rather my 8-year-old niece. He eats only what he likes; when it's cold, we have to persuade him to add more clothes; in the yard, he walks while whistling... all of this shows a side of my father that is very different from his usual stern demeanor.

Father has become more lively as if he has "people-induced madness". When there are guests, father will deliberately speak softly with mother, offering the first pot of dumplings to our guests...he knows very well that with guests around, mother won't argue with him. Once the guest leaves, father immediately becomes humble again towards mother.

Every time father comes back from outside, his first question is always: Where's mom? If mother is at home, father stops talking; if mother isn't at home, father turns around to look for her, seriously trying to find mother.

One day after practicing, mother said: You didn't even check yourself in the mirror before going out, your face wasn't washed clean, and you still have eye gunk. Father was incredulous: I've been out for a walk, how come no one else noticed except you? Father felt like crying: Others might notice but they wouldn't bother telling you, you're so childish now!

If there's any scrap metal, old newspapers or plastic bottles outside, father happily picks them up to sell at the recycling station. After earning three or five yuan, he no longer hands the money over to mother but instead keeps it in his own pocket as a secret "personal fund" for eating out or buying snacks.

In the past, father was especially frugal, unwilling to eat out or buy any snacks. Now that there are no small expenses, he is generous, often going to the food stalls to eat "tofu hotpot"... without meat, shrimp, seaweed, kelp or tofu, a bowl costs only one yuan and fifty cents. Father loves eating flatbread stuffed with braised beef. This is a unique way of preparing beef in Xinjiang... the beef is cooked, seasoned, pressed into blocks, and when eaten, it is sliced thinly with a sharp knife and stuffed into a freshly baked warm flatbread.

Once, father complained to me about mother: Every time I stuff a one-yuan piece of meat into the flatbread, but one time the bread was a bit bigger, so I stuffed two yuan worth of meat inside, and your mother scolded me for being wasteful. I couldn't help but laugh, that's not the serious, rigid father I remember, but more like a greedy child! I took 50 yuan out of my pocket and gave it to him, letting him use it specifically to buy flatbread stuffed with braised beef, and deliberately instructed him: Don't tell mother. Father happily accepted the money and went away. Not long after, I passed by the kitchen and heard father proudly telling mother: Our son gave me 50 yuan, urging me to buy flatbread stuffed with braised beef, see, children really care about us!

Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat... we are getting older, but father is becoming more childlike. This feeling is just like a poem written by a poet named Yun Ming...

Father is smaller/ standing here/ like a short tilted mud wall... Father's attitude towards me is increasingly like a child's/ when I talk to father/ he constantly nods his head/ unable to fully understand my meaning/ he opens his mouth and smiles foolishly at me... There was a moment/ I suddenly wanted to be a father to my father/ buy him the best toys/ prepare delicious meals for him every day/ urge him to study, until abroad/ if someone bullies him/ I don't care about anything/ roll up my sleeves/ beat the person mercilessly...

One day when I came home from work, I saw father walking towards the street. I quickly ran over to stop him and asked him what he was doing. Like a child waiting for his parent to return home, he smiled and said he was waiting for me, worried that I would get lost. A wave of warmth surged in my heart, my nose tingled, tears blurred my eyes. I thought: You taught me the right path, now you're the one who might get lost, yet you're still worrying about me, such deep paternal love! I turned my face away, not wanting father to see my tears, and let him take me home. As we walked, I suddenly stopped in my tracks, but father didn't notice, continuing to walk ahead. The sunlight bathed his entire body in gold, watching his increasingly larger figure, tears once again blurred my eyes.

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