My father's habit was to wake up early. At 4:30 in the morning, while the whole family was still curled up asleep, he would stir and get up. No alarm clock needed. Every morning, he did the same. Regardless of the freezing winter weather or the persistent drizzle, he would consistently put on his windbreaker, straw hat, and shoes and leave the house for his exercise.
In the past, before smartphones, my father carried a small radio with him. I still vividly remember the silver-gray radio, about the size of an adult's hand, with a worn canvas strap. He would walk while listening to music or news broadcasts. That steady sound accompanied me throughout my childhood, mingling with the crowing of roosters and the rustling of the palm trees in the wind... In recent years, he switched to using a phone. Every morning, he turns on podcasts, listening to channels sharing about health, wellness, life skills, or positive stories. Sometimes, during dinner, he tells the whole family about deep breathing exercises to strengthen the lungs, about how to eat a balanced diet, or about a dedicated elderly doctor somewhere in Central Vietnam. We listen and laugh at his passion. But deep down, we all feel warmth and admiration, because at sixty years old, he continues to learn and maintain healthy habits.
My father used to say, "Without exercise, you won't have the strength to live a healthy life. If you're already complaining of aching knees and back pain at forty, what will you have left to enjoy life at sixty or seventy?" I heard this seemingly lighthearted remark countless times as a child, but I didn't pay much attention to it. Only when I started working and my body began to "speak up" whenever the weather changed did I suddenly remember my father's words. Health, it turns out, isn't something you get naturally; it's something that needs nurturing through a balanced lifestyle every day.
Once, when I went back to my hometown, it rained for several days. Early in the morning, while I was still huddled in bed, I saw my father's figure in the yard, holding an umbrella, slowly walking out to the gate. I called after him, "Dad, you're still exercising in this rain?" He just smiled and said, "The older you get, the more you need to exercise regularly. If you're lazy one day, you'll be sluggish the next."
Sometimes I think that perhaps that habit was my father's way of showing love for his family. A love that wasn't loud or flamboyant, but enduring and steadfast. My father didn't talk much, nor was he good at expressing his feelings. But by maintaining his health, living a moderate and optimistic life, he quietly shouldered his responsibilities in the house – like a silent but unwavering pillar.
One day, I couldn't sleep and woke up early. It wasn't quite daylight yet, and the yard was still covered in dew. Through the window, I saw my father. He was standing in the yard, stretching his arms, taking a deep breath, then leisurely walking around the yard as if he were strolling through his own private space. No lights. No sound. Just a man living fully in a peaceful morning. I was silent. For the first time, I no longer saw it as a habit – but as a beauty. A beauty that came from regularity, from a proactive spirit of caring for himself and those he loved.
From that day on, I also tried waking up earlier, to create a habit for myself. Sometimes I would just take a few walks, other times I would sit on the porch reading a few pages of a book, watching the early morning sun spread across the walls and breathing in the scent of plants after the rain. A small habit, but enough to remind me of my father every morning.
My father's habits gradually spread to the rest of the family. My mother also woke up early to make tea and go for a few walks with him. My sister and I started paying more attention to our eating habits, breathing exercises, and going to bed early. Without anyone telling us to, we instinctively adjusted. Perhaps it was my father's unwavering determination that inspired us, quietly but powerfully.
A habit my father maintained for so many years has suddenly become a cherished memory in the hearts of his children. And I know that someday, when I no longer hear the gentle sound of the door opening each morning, no longer see my father's slow steps in the yard, my heart will ache with overwhelming longing for him. But right now, while he is still here with his simple daily habits, we feel incredibly happy and fortunate, because he taught us how to live strongly, resiliently, and to love ourselves.
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/19/171573/thoi-quen-cua-ba
![[Photo] Golden season of organic farming under the canopy of the vast Mang Den forest.](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fvphoto.vietnam.vn%2Fthumb%2F1200x675%2Fvietnam%2Fresource%2FIMAGE%2F2026%2F01%2F24%2F1769247398190_ndo_br_cam-15-jpg.webp&w=3840&q=75)
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