My Parents

My Father

Today is the 31 anniversary of my father's passing-away day. I have always wanted to write something about my father since that unforgettable day 31 years ago, and now I finally have the opportunity to do so.

 

My father was born into a big peasant family in 1923 in southern China. He had three brothers and two sisters. As a result of hard work by him and his brothers, my father’s family became relatively well off in 1949, and had achieved a lower-middle-farmer’s affluence.

 

In mid 1940s, my father was forcibly taken by the nationalist army, in which he served as a cook. At some stage, he suffered a severe bout of malaria, and left in bed unattended. When he became too thirsty, there was no one at hand to even give him some drinking water. Unable to get up himself, he drank the water under his bed, which had been used to wash feet many days before.

 

When he slowly recovered from the illness, he decided to escape. One day, he went with two officers to buy supplies at a nearby market. On the way home, my father dropped his buckets, and ran for his life. The two officers chased him, and even fired a few shots at him. Luckily, the bullets did not get him. After jumping into a pond with a bunch of reeds, he hided there until later in the evening, and then found his way home eventually.

 

In the early 1950s, my father heard that some villagers nearby found jobs in a tungsten mine far away. He decided to try his luck there as well. One evening, he quietly departed the village with a couple of his friends, in order not to let others know their whereabouts, in case many people going there together might ruin their chance of getting employment in the mine.

 

The job in the mine was hard, but at least it paid a little better than working in the farm. As a largely ill-educated farmer, my father knew nothing about the danger of mine dusts. In fact, even during lunch breaks, he would stay inside the mine tunnels, where it is always cool in summer and warm in winter. In the end, my father developed severe miner’s lung disease within the period of a few short years.

 

As he became unfit to work in the mine tunnels, he was transferred to perform duties outside for a number of years, and finally became an invalid pensioner by 1969. An enduring memory of mine about my father was largely made of a sick patient, who had constant difficulty in breathing, coughed a lot and had bouts of unbearable chest pains.

 

While as a father, he was intensely proud of my school records. Every time when I got my exam papers back, he would try to read every line of them (as to how much he could understand it, I was not sure). He would then take my exam papers and showed them to a neighbor who also had a son in my class, and asked him what his son's scores were. My father would say to me that as long as you learned some useful skills, you would survive in whatever societies.

 

When his chest pains were not too severe, he would help some of his co-workers writing letters home, who did not know how to write characters while my father had at least four year schooling before. There was no doubt that my father cherished living, as he would try anything perceived to be good for his health and for his recovery. He even ate boiled placenta, which somehow worsened his disease and sped up the trip to his final destiny.

 

I was not in his bedside the day when he passed away, but I was with him day and night for a fortnight just a couple of days before his last breath. What I witnessed would remain with me forever, those intolerable chest pains, those suffocating breaths, those dripping perspirations, and those desperate desires for life. May my father rest in peace in his eternal world.

 

 我的母亲
本文由 tugofwar 在 2005-8-19 05:27 发表于: 倍可亲.美国 ( backchina.com )

 

我们每个人都有一个属于自己的母亲。也许我们各自的母亲在身世高低，性情缓急与学问深浅等方面迥然而异，但她们都有一个共同特点，那就是，我们的母亲都会通过特定的方式，展现出其宽宏大度，忘我献身的母爱。

我的母亲祖籍湘东, 于1９２7年出生在一个贫困的农民家庭里。母亲共有三个兄弟，俩个姐妹。由于外祖父是个整日沉湎于麻将牌局的不屑之辈，几近文盲的外婆只得靠替人缝缝补补艰难度日。母亲勉强读了两年书，就迫于家境，辍学帮助外婆维持生计。

为了减轻家中生活压力，母亲十来岁就拜当地一位裁缝师傅学艺。前三年，除了吃住，分文不取，为师傅忙里忙外，未能学到点滴裁剪与缝纫的技术。三年后，师傅才许动手，但凡事都得自留心眼，观察牢记。师傅从不会有头有序，把手指教。偶有失误，师傅的铜尺就会披头盖脑打来。个中苦处，只有母亲心里知道。这样又熬了不挣分文的三年，母亲总算出师了。尽管学徒期间历经千辛万苦，母亲学到的裁缝技艺，为未来的生活提供了保障。

一九四十年代末，母亲出嫁了。当时因为买不起缝纫机，只得用针线手工, 为人缝制衣服。一九五十年代初，父亲听说南方有一钨矿招工，就伙同邻村几人，前去谋生。尽管矿山工作环境恶劣，任务艰巨，但矿工的微薄收入比起农民来还是稍强点。几年后，母亲携家带口，搬到矿山。这时候，家里已有我们兄弟姐妹四个。母亲一边在家照看孩子，一边帮人缝纫，以弥补家用。

随着三年自然灾害的来临，矿山提供给职工家属的定量口粮骤减。父亲整日担负着繁重的体力劳动，缺乏足够的营养，终于病倒了。我也由于饥饿，患上重病，四肢干瘦，肚皮鼓涨，几近丧命。眼见全家饥馑窘况，母亲毅然决定带着一岁多的我和六岁的哥哥，到外地谋生。这样省下口粮，可让父亲和我的俩个姐姐苟且生存。母亲挑着一副重担，一边是坐在箩筐里的我，另一边是沉甸甸的缝纫机。我六岁的哥哥，跟在一旁。乘火车，转汽车，东奔西走，背井离乡，为人缝纫，糊口度日。这样，在外一晃就是数年。直到饥荒渐缓，母亲才领着我和哥哥，回到矿山。显而易见，没有母亲那些年吃尽苦中苦，受尽累中累，我们一家是免不了家破人亡的。

没平静多久，文化大革命运动开始了。尽管三年自然灾害的景况仍然历历在目，作为一个文化水平低下，阶级感情朴素的劳动妇女，母亲对党和国家的忠诚与信赖，是坚定不移的。学雷锋做好事，她一马当先，自告奋勇。援越抗美募捐，她四处奔走，慷慨解囊。突出政治思想，她省吃俭用，自订红旗杂志，自购马列原著。培养革命后代，她为儿女每人购置红宝书，督促儿女活学活用。凭着两年的文化水平，母亲自学《共产党宣言》。结果，书中的“幽灵”把她搅得头晕耳旋，引起早发的更年期症状。

由于父母亲收入微薄，儿女众多，家庭经济一直处于紧张，拮据状态。可是，母亲从来没有因此放弃对家乡老人的资助。每隔半年，她都会给双方的父母亲各寄上一笔钱, 直到双方的老人都去世为止。到儿女后来逐渐长大自理，母亲一生的所有余款就只剩八百元了。

痛感缺乏文化的苦楚，母亲十分重视儿女的教育。只要儿女有心，她就竭尽全力，让儿女完成学业。在我高中一年级时，父亲因患职业性矽肺病辞世。根据当时条件，我可以顶职做矿工。所有的亲朋好友都觉得工作机会难得，而且读书多了也不一定有用。可母亲不愿我再步父亲那悲剧般一生的后尘，顶住世俗，坚持让我读完高中。不容置疑，没有母亲当年的执着，我必定成为一个四肢发达，头脑简单的矿工了。为此，我由衷感激母亲的坚定信念和远大目光。

高中毕业后，作为回乡知青，我在曾养育父亲母亲的一山一水，进行了一番亲身体验。二年后，我有幸参加文革后首次高考。我不负母亲的厚望，顺利地成了我们家族有记忆以来的第一个大学生。可想而知，母亲当时的兴奋与慰籍之情，不是三言两语就可描写出来。让母亲更为骄傲的是，我大学一毕业，就考取出国研究生，荣获到国外深造的机会。从临别的话语中，我体会到母亲依依不舍的情感。但是，为了我的学业，她把一切都深深地埋在心底。

光阴似箭。在出国后的第二个春节，我有幸回家探望母亲。整整一个月里，我几乎都待在母亲身旁，叙别离之情，享天伦之乐。为了让母亲更好地安度晚年，我替她买了一台彩电。母亲按捺不住心中的喜悦, 逢人便说。也许是怕影响我的学业，母亲没有谈及她与我哥嫂相处的困境。母亲只期望我能早日结业，与家庭团聚，为国家作贡献。

又过了三年，我的毕业论文终于通过了。当我把自己的毕业照片寄给母亲时，她的高兴与骄傲是不可比拟, 无法形容的。可是，当我告诉她，国外有一个能让我学到更多技艺的工作时，母亲的心顿时收紧了。虽然在来信中，母亲总是说，只要对我工作有益，就不妨待下去。我没加思索，便信以为真。

不久，我从姐姐的来信中了解到，由于哥哥嫂嫂对母亲不好，母亲由于精神压抑去世了。这消息象晴天霹雳，让我深感意外，震惊。我在外这些年，母亲和家里人，从来都没有向我透露过此类消息, 唯恐我的学业受影响。过后，我方如梦初醒。原来，我是母亲最后几年的精神支柱。当我也因各种理由推迟返回时，她的精神支柱彻底地崩溃了。可惜，人是没有后悔药吃的。如果早知内情，一毕业，我就会毫不迟疑地回到母亲身边。

我母亲生不逢时，在多戗的岁月中度过了忙忙碌碌的一生的。通过其清纯朴实的性格，吃苦耐劳的本色，坚韧不拔的意志, 和宽容包涵的理性, 我的母亲给儿女留下了刻骨铭心的记忆和奋发向上的勇气。我永远忘不了母亲的养育之恩，无私奉献。我为失去报孝母爱的机会而愧憾终生。

[Tigerbalm]

Yes, it was hard. For this reason, I will take a few days off in order to regain my composure. I still have a hard one to work on though, which is about my mother.

[红小兵]

it must be real hard to write something like this.