(QBĐT) - April. Each thin ray of sunlight like spider silk has spread pink on the kitchen roof. Mother said, it is the early morning sunshine after days of spring rain and drizzle. The early sunshine makes people feel more excited and warmer thanks to the interactions and harmony between all things on earth and sky. In the garden, morning glory flowers sway in the wind, by the fence, birds chirp and the dew still clings to the grass leaves. The house is strangely peaceful in the pure sunshine. Mother cut a white lily and put it in a Chu Dau ceramic vase, then asked her grandchild to go to the front porch to help her pick some betel leaves. Mother sat on the ebony wooden bench, the scent of betel leaves mixed with the scent of the bark of the chay tree, making the house warm.
After a moment of contemplation, Mom said: Time flies so fast, in the blink of an eye, half of a lifetime has passed. Exactly fifty years ago was the day I gave birth to you, you were just a month old when the South was liberated, the country was unified. The event of April 1975 was a happy day that I will never forget. That was the moment when the country was unified, the South was liberated, the memories of that historic April are still intact in my mind, your father's and the soldiers'. It was an unforgettable historical milestone. In those April days, the whole country turned to the South, in the countryside people gathered around transistor radios to hear the news of victory. Revolutionary songs resounded everywhere, from small alleys to big cities where flags and flowers filled the sky.
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Father sat in the sun in front of the areca trees, his shadow cast long on the brick yard, his hair had turned white over the years, his hands were covered with small freckles. Father quietly poured chrysanthemum tea from the clay pot into two small cups as a ritual. Father said, I often have trouble sleeping these days, drinking your mother's chrysanthemum tea makes me sleep better. At the end of last year, the provincial Veterans Association invited us to visit the old battlefield, after visiting and burning incense for our comrades, each of us was given a gift and a box of chrysanthemum tea. Then Father sipped his tea and sat reminiscing about the glorious years that had passed.
April 1975 was not only a joy, but also a deep gratitude to those who sacrificed for the independence and freedom of the nation. The soldiers fought tirelessly, the people steadfastly overcame all hardships to contribute to that great victory. The flag of the National Liberation Front flew on the roof of the Independence Palace, that was the moment when the whole nation burst into joy of victory, pride and hope for a peaceful future, a unified country.
In 1967, my father was a communications soldier. The war against the US to save the country was extremely fierce at that time. On the back of each soldier, in addition to weapons, were technical means to ensure timely communication and telephone calls with the engineering, artillery and anti-aircraft artillery troops. Many times I heard my father talk about the years of crossing high mountains, dense forests, and deep streams to send and receive telegrams from the command post, setting up a communications network to ensure both secrecy and continuity, which was extremely difficult and arduous.
Father said, only soldiers who risked their lives to understand the price of peace and only soldiers in the war longed for peace more than anyone else, because they were the ones who directly fought with guns. The moment of April 30, 1975 was the moment when the whole nation was "united, the mountains and rivers were one strip, the North and the South were one family", thousands of houses were awake with lights on, millions of people were so happy they couldn't sleep, because everyone knew that fathers and children, husbands and wives would be reunited forever.
A few years ago, seeing my father’s skinny hands flipping through the war relics left after the liberation of the South like treasures, my heart suddenly felt moved. My father took out from his personal ammunition box a parachute hammock, an old pair of binoculars, a pair of military badges faded by time, a notebook of battlefield records, an aluminum water bottle, a black and white photo taken with his comrades that was yellowed and peeling, and especially a small warbler sewn from a piece of a tank and stuffed with cotton to give to my sister during the days my father was recovering in the operating station. Those were all my father’s relics after the victory day.
My father’s comrades in the photo are now some still alive, some are dead, some have fallen in the war and will forever lie in the bosom of Mother Earth, those who sacrificed their blood and bones and parts of their bodies for the day of national reunification. Those are the sacred flames that never go out in the hearts of soldiers like my father and those who are lucky enough to return.
The war has passed for half a century, the memories of a heroic time, the fire and flowers still lie deep in my father's heart. I know that the soldier does not regret his youth, living his life to the fullest for the great cause, but the soldier wants to find his youth again in the arms of his comrades. Every April, the weather is clearer and gentler because of the white lily flowers blooming on the streets. I hear the emotion rising in my father, April is the season of flowers, the season of the soul and April is the season of independence, freedom and happiness.
Source: https://baoquangbinh.vn/van-hoa/202504/ky-uc-thang-tu-2225674/
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