Mother's inheritance

One morning, a baby bird learning to fly fell into the yard. It was frightened and chirped, trying to flap its tiny wings to fly back up. Feeling sorry for it, I picked it up, intending to find its nest and return it. But it only made the bird more frightened and chirped louder.

The mother bird heard her chick flying towards her, and seeing it in someone's hands, she could only hop around frantically, crying pitifully. I immediately released the baby bird to the ground. It happily ran, flapping its wings and hopping back to its mother. It seemed to have been guided by its mother, as the baby bird jumped onto a branch and flapped its wings to gain momentum and fly high. I watched the two birds, and suddenly realized how much the baby bird resembled me.

Illustrative image.

In my early adulthood, I arrogantly believed I could take care of myself without relying on my parents, that I was past the age of being scolded by them. I left for the city and threw myself into work, under the illusion that I could earn money to support myself and even provide for my parents. But alas… Only after starting work did I understand the saying, “It’s hard working for others, unlike the simple meal my mother prepared for me.” Earning money requires sweat and tears. My meager salary was nothing compared to the high cost of living in the city. I struggled to make ends meet. Even buying small gifts for holidays required saving up for a long time. It was only then that I understood the hardship my parents endured for so many years, carrying the burden of raising and educating their children.

Yet, every time my mother suggested I return to my hometown to find a job closer to home to save money, my pride would swell up. I was determined to eke out a living in the city rather than return home with a failed face, fearing my parents' nagging. I was determined to pack my bags and leave, refusing to be a burden on them any longer. So I rushed back to the city, working day and night just to earn money, to prove to my parents that I could live well without them.

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For years, I was solely focused on making money and building my career. Once I had a stable job and a steady income, I became complacent with my initial achievements and worked even harder, striving to earn as much money as possible to make my parents proud. I didn't like hearing my mother praise other people's children for earning tens of millions of dong a month, building mansions, and buying cars. Every time I heard her praise other people's children, my pride would flare up. I arrogantly promised myself that I would achieve the same, that I would make my mother acknowledge my accomplishments.

And so the months and years passed by.

As time went on, my visits home became less frequent, and the distance between me and my parents grew wider and wider…

Then, the little bird built a new nest, chirping alongside another bird. With a small, cozy home, busy with husband and children, I no longer remembered that in that rural village, in that small house, were the two people who had given birth to and raised me, and who waited for my return every day. I simply thought that being able to take care of myself eased the burden on my parents, and that was enough. Returning home for a few days during holidays was sufficient. I never considered how old my parents were, waiting in their old house just to see us return, to hear the laughter and chatter of their children and grandchildren. That was enough; they didn't need the delicious food and exotic dishes we brought back, because they were old, with high blood pressure and diabetes requiring them to restrict their diet.

Birds, once they learn to fly, usually build new nests and never return to their old ones. It's the same with people. Everyone who gets married wants to live separately and doesn't want to go back to live with their parents. Listening to their parents' constant nagging and admonishment is exhausting. Everyone fears living with the elderly because they tend to forget things easily and are always comparing their children to others... So young people often prefer freedom, and whether they're hungry or full, they still want to live independently.

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Only the parents still remember their children every day, occasionally flipping through the photo album and smiling to themselves. Just yesterday they were running, jumping, laughing, fighting, and crying; now it's silent, each child in a different place. It seems like only yesterday they were scolding them for being too engrossed in watching TV and neglecting their studies, and now they've all become fathers and mothers themselves. On sunny days, the mother takes out the old wooden chest to dry in the sun. The chest is always locked and kept high up. One might think it contains something valuable, but it turns out she keeps a stack of her children's certificates of merit inside, occasionally taking them out to dry in the sun for fear of termites. She even carefully wipes each certificate clean with a cloth.

One time, while on a business trip, I stopped by home and saw my mother drying out her treasures. I burst into tears. It turned out that for my mother, her children were her greatest asset. It turned out she had always been proud of her children, she just didn't say it out loud. And, it turned out she had always longed for her children, even though they were children who sometimes remembered her and sometimes forgot her, and it seemed they forgot more often than they remembered…

Source: https://baobinhthuan.com.vn/gia-tai-cua-me-112306.html