Remembering Dad on an Autumn Afternoon - Tuoi Tre Online

I think my parents' love was beautiful, caring for each other until their last breath. I think living like that is a life worth living.

Illustration: DANG HONG QUAN

Some time after my youngest uncle got married, my father fell seriously ill. At that time, the COVID-19 pandemic was raging, and disease control measures in hospitals were particularly strict.

During the pandemic, my father was seriously ill. He needed a PCR test certificate to go anywhere, and the long waits, the pain of having samples taken, and the expense were immense. After passing through numerous checkpoints, we finally reached the hospital, but even then, only one family member was allowed to care for him, and they had to stay overnight in the ward. I took my father to the hospital and handled all the paperwork for the surgery.

Before leaving for Hanoi , my father bought my mother a bag of brown rice because she has diabetes. He also told my mother to wait until he got home to help with any remaining chores around the house.

The night before the surgery, Dad was still laughing and chatting happily with everyone in the hospital room. Early the next morning, at six o'clock, it was his scheduled surgery. Without time to say goodbye, Dad and I quickly put on our warm coats and rushed after the doctor. That was the last time I heard Dad speak clearly.

After spending some time in the hospital, my father was finally able to go home. He was bedridden and unable to speak. He was so ill that even turning over in bed was exhausting. My mother cared for him tirelessly, day and night.

I still remember the day my mother said, "Just bring your father here, and no matter how difficult it is, I'll take care of him." I know my mother doesn't often express her feelings in words, but deep down, few people are more sincere. She's spent her whole life toiling for her husband and children, and there were times when hardship brought tears to her eyes.

Then I wondered if that self-sacrifice seemed to be another "vocation" for so many Vietnamese women. Only after living and experiencing it firsthand in my family did I truly understand and empathize.

Mom is tired, lying beside Dad, watching over him as he sleeps, and my heart is filled with boundless love for both of us. We've almost reached the end of our lives, how many days have we truly experienced joy and leisure? But I believe that with Mom's love—for Dad, for me, for her daughter-in-law, and for her grandchildren—even though she's tired, she still finds joy. Living for others is a noble and beautiful way of life, isn't it, Mom?

The wind is cold, the night still carries a hint of the lingering chill of the "Nang Ban" season. I hope tonight the wind doesn't pick up too much so Dad can sleep soundly and Mom won't have to toss and turn so much. Night after night, that's all I wish for...

I still remember that evening vividly. Suddenly, my father, though his voice was unclear, said to my younger brother and me, who were sitting by the bed: "You two must take care of your mother." I will always remember those words with a heavy heart. A few days later, my father passed away.

I think my parents' love was beautiful, caring for each other until their last breath. I think living like that is a life worth living.

With time, all pain eventually subsides. And gradually, the pain is replaced by a burning longing and nostalgia.

One afternoon, rushing down the street for some errands, I suddenly felt a cool breeze, stopped, and felt a sense of unease. Oh! Autumn had arrived.

Then suddenly the rain came. It poured down like a deluge. The night felt a little chilly and melancholic. I reflected on life, like the four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. It's long, yet so short. One might think they'll be forever immersed in suffering, but then the suffering gradually lessens, and happiness slowly rises.

From childhood to adulthood, my father has always been there for me, and I always remember him. The other day, my little daughter asked me, "Grandma, now that Grandpa is gone, can he still see me?"

My mother smiled and gently told me, "Yes, my dear! Your grandfather in heaven is always watching over your every step. Be a good boy to make him happy!"

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/chieu-thu-nho-bo-20241027100747204.htm