My father was a soldier of Uncle Ho. For more than 16 years, he was attached to the green uniform of the army. When I was young, I did not understand much about my father's "profession", I only knew that every time I heard the loudspeaker reading the list of units marching through the locality, my mother would stop, listen to each word, then sigh softly because she knew that my father's unit did not pass by our house.
Only when I grew up did I understand why throughout my long childhood, my father was always absent from family meals, reunions, or even when we were sick. He did not go to luxurious places, nor did he seek anything for himself. He was marching everywhere with his comrades, on a mission to protect the Fatherland. During the years when the country was still not quiet from gunfire, my father and his comrades silently protected every inch of our homeland. Each step of my father was part of the journey to bring peace to many other families. And my mother was the one who stayed behind to replace my father, to teach, to care for him, and to keep his image always present in our hearts, even if only through bedtime stories. Thanks to that, even though we did not see him often, we still grew up with the image of a resilient, quiet, and loving father.
After leaving the army, Dad returned to his hometown with the appearance of a soldier who had gone through many difficult years - quiet, thoughtful but his eyes were always bright and steadfast. Dad did not talk much about what he had experienced, but quietly began a new journey - the journey of being a husband, a father, a pillar in a small house with an old garden.
Unlike my mother, who was always gentle and caring, my father was strict and quiet. Warm hugs or loving words from him were almost a luxury for us. Instead, he taught us through actions - punctuality, self-cleaning, and how to live responsibly with words and actions. When I was a child, I did not understand, sometimes even felt sorry for myself, sometimes angry with my father, why he did not smile or pamper me like other fathers. Now thinking back, I see that my father's love was not noisy, not ostentatious, but quiet and persistent, just like the man himself!
Although he was quiet, simple and quiet, my father had a lot of love for his family. He didn't often express his feelings through words, and never said words of love, but he always silently did everything for his family. There were days when my mother was sick, my father quietly went into the kitchen to cook porridge, peel fruit, clumsily and awkwardly, but didn't let my mother do anything. When my brothers and I got married and moved out, everyone was busy, my father knew that, so he never called much or texted for long. Once my father had a high fever for several days, but he still drove himself to buy medicine because he didn't want to bother anyone. The front gate was broken, my father fixed it himself. The electric wire was bitten by rats, my father used a chair to patch it up bit by bit. His back was already bent, his eyes were dim, but he still refused to ask his children and grandchildren for help.
Life keeps us going without us knowing. Work, meetings, children... all sorts of things are so busy that my siblings and I only occasionally remember to call and ask about our parents, let alone visit them. While our home is less than 2 kilometers away, less than ten minutes by motorbike. Somehow, that short distance sometimes seems strangely far away. Just a quick turn and we’re there, but arranging a visit to our parents is sometimes more difficult than preparing for a long trip.
Every time I call my dad, I always hear the same familiar phrase: “I’m glad you’re all well, just mind your own business.” It’s become a habit, but the older I get, the more I realize that phrase is not simple. It’s not just sympathy, but the way my dad hides his desire to be close to his children and grandchildren. It’s the way he loves, without saying it directly. Dad rarely asks for anything, but I know he always looks forward to full meals, with the laughter of his children and grandchildren, and someone pouring him a cup of tea. Just that alone makes him happy.
Sometimes when I think back, I blame myself. If only the calls weren’t always urgent. If only I came home more often, just to sit next to Dad, listening to him tell trivial stories like the tomato plant that just bloomed or the chicken that just laid an egg… then perhaps the distance would never have been so great. Because for Dad, love doesn’t need to be something grand. As long as the children are willing to come home, sit next to Dad, listen to Dad tell a few everyday stories, then Dad is warm enough. heart
Hello love, season 4, theme "Father" officially launched from December 27, 2024 on four types of press and digital infrastructure of Radio - Television and Binh Phuoc Newspaper (BPTV), promising to bring to the public the wonderful values of sacred and noble fatherly love. |
Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/171708/yeu-thuong-khong-loi
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