I call him "Dad," affectionately, just as I would call my own biological father. When I first came to live with my in-laws, I was the youngest of ten children. Filled with anxiety, I hesitated about the new relationships, fearing I wouldn't be skillful enough to integrate into this large family. My mother-in-law had passed away early, leaving the house without a mother's presence. But then, it was my father-in-law – a quiet and forgiving man – who became the connecting link, a warm source of emotional support, helping me gradually integrate and become familiar with the family.
My father-in-law showed me special affection, perhaps because I was the youngest daughter-in-law who came home in the absence of my mother. He was both father and mother, and a companion all in one. He told me everything: his joys, his sorrows, and his own worries. Through these small conversations, the distance between daughter-in-law and father-in-law gradually disappeared. At times, outsiders even mistook me for his youngest daughter.
My father was never harsh on me, even though I was clumsy in the kitchen. In the beginning, the dishes I cooked weren't to his liking, but he still ate them all and praised them, as a silent encouragement. Through those meals, I learned what kind of fish or soup he liked, and then I researched and learned to cook better each day.
My father calls me "Little Girl"—a nickname only he uses. Every time I go on business trips, he often asks my husband, "Little Girl, how many more days until you're back?" Whether I come home early or late, he always waits for me before eating dinner. Once, I came home almost two hours late, and when I walked in, I found him sitting at the dinner table, waiting with a gentle smile. That meal was just the two of us, but it was incredibly warm, like a daughter returning home after getting married to have dinner with her parents.
As time passed, my father grew older, and age gradually made him confused. When he was 82, he developed Parkinson's disease. He forgot when he'd eaten, forgot where he'd put his money. I learned how to care for him, how to love an elderly man who was gradually weakening. Once, a neighbor called to say my father was sweeping the yard all the way to the edge of the village in the midday summer sun. Another time, he turned on the gas stove to cook rice in the electric rice cooker, simply because he "was afraid Bé would be hungry when she came home from work." That statement choked me up. My father didn't express his love in words, but he silently showed his love for me through the smallest actions.
Before long, my father could no longer walk on his own; all his daily activities were confined to one place. And I was always by his side. I fed him, told him stories to make him laugh, bathed him, and cleaned him with all the gentleness and gratitude I could muster. He still called me "Little Girl" as he always had.
One winter day, my father passed away after a peaceful afternoon nap. His face was rosy and serene, as if he had never experienced months of illness. For me, he is no longer here, but his love, his protection, and his gentle smile will live on in every meal, in the childhood memories of his children and grandchildren, and deeply ingrained in the heart of his youngest daughter-in-law, who was fortunate enough to have such a wonderful father-in-law!
Hello, dear viewers! Season 4, themed "Father," officially launches on December 27, 2024, across four media platforms and digital infrastructures of Binh Phuoc Radio and Television and Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values of sacred and beautiful fatherly love. |
Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/172526/nguoi-cha-thu-hai-cua-toi
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