Dad! I remember…

BPO - The drizzling rain makes me think of my father. How many nights, how many times have I waited to find my father's figure, but it seems like he has entered a new life and is no longer present in my dreams. I frantically want to write something down, because I'm afraid that my memories will grow old and tired, making me unable to remember what my father looks like anymore...

My father belonged to the generation that young people today often say is ancient, very difficult, meticulous and perfectionist. My father loved his children but was very strict. I always had a vague feeling of separation, making it difficult to be close to my father like many friends of the same age. I remember when I was a child, after dinner, my father often sat whittling bamboo to weave baskets, trays, winnowing trays... and telling us fairy tales and myths. Hey Ly Thong, Thach Sanh, Tam Cam, the Buddha, the fairies... just like that entered my world with so many wonderful things. At that time, to me, my father was the whole world. Because in those poor years, we didn't have books, newspapers, or stories to read. And from those stories, I grew up with a heart full of emotions, loving people, and sympathizing with unfortunate fates.

Not only did the fairy tales write my childhood, my father also taught me how to cook, clean the house, thatch, roof the house, plant rice… no matter what the job was, I had to do it myself, learn it myself. My father always reminded me: “You must learn to live independently, learn to do everything, so that later you won’t have to depend on anyone, won’t have to rely on anyone.” At that time, I often silently blamed my father for not loving me like other fathers, for being too difficult and strict, but the older I got, the more I went through life’s ups and downs, the more I understood that this training was a valuable asset that helped me firmly overcome all the difficulties and challenges in life.

I remember the days of endless rain and storms, in the warm thatched roof, my father folded paper boats for me and let them drift down the river, down the stormy Giai stream. I always wondered where those boats would go, where they would end up in the endless stream of life. My father smiled and patted my head, saying I was silly. It was the first time I felt so close to my father. Simple, yet heart-warming.

Throughout my childhood, the rules and lessons my father taught me were unforgettable and followed me to wider horizons. At the age of 17, I entered university, the first time I went to Saigon, seeing the colorful green and red lights made me overwhelmed, I carefully memorized in my eyes and heart the images and stories to tell my father. I still remember, listening to my stories without beginning or end, my father said: "You still see life in rosy colors!" At that time, I did not understand anything about life. But over the years, after many humiliating stumbles, when love was lost, when painfully walking through the crossroads like a lost person... I understood and just wanted to find my father, just to quietly look at him for a bit to gain the motivation to move on. But, my father was no longer...

I still remember clearly the last years of my father's life when he was seriously ill. As a son, I could only shed tears in pain and helplessness. I wished I could make a lot of money to provide the best treatment for my father. But at that time, I had just graduated from school and was just starting out in life, so it was very difficult for me.

The day my father returned, the sky and clouds were white with rain. The magpie bridge was also choked. Where was my father's scolding and reproaching voice, where was the sound of his soft footsteps from the upper house to the lower house, where was my father's figure coming in and out morning and evening beside the small boat drifting at the top and bottom of the beach? Only anxiety and sorrow remained...

Even though many years have passed since the day my father left me forever, but every time I feel weak, every time life is too precarious, I think of my father, as if seeking a refuge in my soul. And every time I remember the verses in the poem The Riverbank Still Has Wind by Truc Thong:

“Corn leaves sway on the river bank

The river bank is still windy

The person who did not return

Please come back home

One last time... one last time

About the river bank drifting

"About sadness, once had green hair...".

My heart ached with a wordless pain again… Just once… but no more.

Dad! I don't wish for anything in the next life, I just wish that if possible I could see you again in my dreams, so I can feel your warmth and love, so I can remember your image forever, even if it's just in my dreams...  

Hello love, season 4, theme "Father" officially launched from December 27, 2024 on four types of press and digital infrastructure of Radio - Television and Binh Phuoc Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values ​​of sacred and noble fatherly love.
Please send to BPTV your touching stories about Father by writing articles, writing feelings, poems, essays, video clips, songs (with recordings),... via email chaonheyeuthuongbptv@gmail.com, Editorial Secretary Office, Binh Phuoc Radio - Television and Newspaper, No. 228, Tran Hung Dao, Tan Phu Ward, Dong Xoai City, Binh Phuoc Province, phone number: 0271.3870403. The time to receive articles is from now until August 30, 2025.
Quality articles will be published, paid, and rewarded at the end of the topic with 1 special prize and 10 excellent prizes.
Let's continue writing the story about Father with "Hello Love" season 4, so that stories about Father can spread and touch everyone's hearts!

Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/174336/cha-oi-con-nho