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2018年10月12日
Father's love at the point of a knife

I went to the hospital in the morning, mom said. I poured to the pain strong pressure in the bottom of my heart, smiled to him and said: "is not afraid to spend more money? Don't worry, we're not short of money, and medicare will cover most of it. Father's eyes are full of sadness: "not only for money, this time and again, always on the tip of the knife, I am really afraid." My father had heart bypass surgery the year before, and now three "Bridges" are blocked by two more. The director of surgery and the director of surgery repeatedly studied before deciding to do the stent for the father. In "bridge" inner bracket, the risk is naturally big. I spent the morning consoling my father.

The afternoon is a time for rest. My father's bed was near the window, late spring, and warm, with the window at the foot of the bed more than a foot wide open. I sat on the chair at the foot of the bed and closed my eyes to rest. The rolling tiredness of the journey swept over me, and soon I was in a hazy state. In hazy, the curtain flies to the inside rise, touch the hair behind my head, a silk cool idea along the curtain to shake to fall to my body. The bed beside me moved slightly. I opened my eyes in a daze. He slowly extended his hand and pushed the window. The open window was closed, the curtains hung quietly by the window, and the coolness was shut out. Father eased himself back to the bed, ready to lie down again. Seeing that I was staring at him, he whispered, "the wind is blowing. I'm afraid you'll catch cold."

The bottom of my heart was touched by the tip of a knife, soft and warm pain. The scene of the winter before last resurfaced. On the third day after the bypass, the father had a full tube inserted up and down, and the blood was still circulating outside the body. Watching him clench his teeth next to every second and minute and hearing him groan in pain, I felt that countless blades were piercing his weak body and my heart. The doctor will take x-rays of his father in his hospital bed. Getting ready, my father suddenly realized something and gave me a push. His weak hands seemed to hold a thousand jun. I hesitated to move. His swollen face was fixed with an almost angry, "get out!" He raised his feeble voice with difficulty and insisted that I hide out of the hospital room. Even when he was stabbed by the point of the knife, he did not forget that the X-ray he was about to shoot might hurt me, even if it was only a tiny bit.

From the hospital, all the way out of the flowers, magnolia, elm plum, peach, clove, redbud, tears, are vague shadow, faded color lost aroma. The distant friend's mother is also sick, she wrote in the poem, wish Fried bone incense, pray for the mother's health. I would trade all the colors and the flowers of my life for every last risk my father faced, and let him walk down from the edge of the knife once again. Because, have parents to walk together good sun and moon, love and be loved, such as grass long yingfei spring road, go down not worry flowers, flowers, willow green, fragrant all over the sky.
[ 投稿者:huwiri at 11:01 | huwiri | コメント(0) | トラックバック(0) ]

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