But for you, lovesickness

The author has something to say: I’m back~ The bookmarkers are still here, I’m so relieved... (Beating gongs and drums and setting off firecrackers)

This chapter... so cruel...

Zheng Yang, the surnames of my father and mother are connected to form my name.

My birth witnessed the deep affection between my parents.

And my younger brother's name, Yang Fan, means sailing together, meaning long voyage.

The name is so named, and the parents deeply mean it. One is to inspire us to have lofty aspirations, and the other is to teach my siblings to cherish the love of relatives that blood is thicker than water.

I was ignorant to understand the deep meaning of intimacy and love, it was when I was adolescence...

Regardless of the time when I was born, eating, sleeping and sleeping, from the sensible school to the age of 16, no matter when I look back, it is worth looking forward to and satisfied, satisfied with the status quo but unable to bear looking forward to the future.

This feeling is due to the completeness of my family and the harmony of the four.

"My family is a family of four, my father, my mother, me and my brother..." "My father is a policeman, and my mother is an accountant..." Every time I say these words through the tip of my pen, they come to my mind Deepen it again...

I remember graduating from primary school, I wrote down my dream—to become a qualified policeman—on every graduation record I wrote to my classmates.

There are still half a sentence unfinished in the subconscious: like my father.

The situation in junior high school has been blurred, only one ideological and moral class is still fresh in my memory. There is an example in the textbook, which lists the difficult work of the people's police. The nature has been taken away...

After class, I searched the narcotics police and learned about the bloody battlefield my father and his colleagues fought in.

In addition to being excited and proud at that time, the fear of being severely injured was magnified layer by layer.

I can't wait to finish my studies and stand beside my father, and even share the risk for him.

After that, I saw more clearly the silence of my mother when I saw my father off at the door of the house.

Maybe my younger brother has also grown up. We no longer cover our mouths and don’t smile openly like we did when we were young. Instead, we pray quietly, hoping that the care of our family will lead my father out of the dense fog and smoke, and hope that the apple in his palm will protect him.

I tried my best to learn knowledge, looking forward to growing up quickly, and looking forward to my father's return as soon as possible.

My mother took care of us with all her heart, and my younger brother was gradually transforming from a naughty boy to a young man with ambition.

The disaster came suddenly...

In the summer vacation of the year of high school, I went to the remedial class to pick up my brother from get out of class, and when I came home, I was stopped by a police car at the gate of the community.

Mom came over, picked us up one by one, and pulled us to the back of the car.

My mother's hands were cold to the bone, and I looked sideways at her all the way. She pursed her lips, her face turned pale, and she didn't say a word.

……

Goodbye Dad, no surprises.

Mom waited for the doctor to finish his rounds and followed him to the office.My brother and I were led into the ward by an uncle in plain clothes.

Casting a glance, I saw my father on the hospital bed, his face was as pale as a sheet of paper, but he was still smiling when he saw us... As if the pain and soreness in my chest were expanding at an accelerated pace, I lowered my head as if I had done something wrong. look up.

Hearing my father call my nickname dumbly, I was still there and couldn't escape.

It was my younger brother who held my hand and pulled me to lean towards him.

My younger brother handed our holding hand to the edge of the bed, and as usual, it was held by a pair of big hands.

My father's hands were a few degrees colder, but his fingertips were clasped on the back of my hand, and the gentleness and generosity that came from him were no different.

As usual, Dad asked us about our studies and the situation at home, and it was my younger brother who answered.I lowered my head and fiercely blocked the grievance and weakness that were clamoring inside. At that time, I could still feel the sight lingering above my head from time to time.

My father has always treated us fairly, and his love has been divided into two, so that we both have always felt that we have received more love than the only child of other families.

The younger brother choked his throat and answered one by one. After speaking, he asked his father in a trembling voice where he was sick and where it hurt.

My father only said that the injury consumes energy, and rest will heal.

Both of us hesitated, but we were still willing to believe.

Even during the holidays, my mother would not allow us to go to the hospital every day on the grounds that my studies were too heavy. We begged her for a long time before she allowed us to accompany her to go every three days. Unfortunately, when we went, most of them "just in time" The father was resting or receiving treatment, so he had to return in a bad mood.

After the summer vacation, my father was hospitalized for nearly two months, and his complexion was not good. On the night of the first day of school, my father insisted that my mother take us home, and stipulated that he was only allowed to visit him on weekends.

When we parted, my father winked at us, like the sly eyes he used to play peek-a-boo with us when we were young, and his doting smile wiped away all the haze.

Looking forward to the weekend, when we go again, our wishes will come true, and we will be pleasantly surprised.

Father's spirit recovered a little, and when he saw us enter the door, he stood up with the guardrail in his arms, and walked a few steps with his tall and thin body.

He opened his arms to us, with a smile on his pale face, and insisted on hugging me and my brother in turn.

"My daughter has grown up and can support the family." I remember he sighed softly in my ear at that time, his hoarse voice scratched my eardrums, and I wanted to cry but forced myself to swallow.

What he said to Zheng Fan, I didn't know at that time.

……

A week later, the situation is not good.

Lying on the bed, when he heard the sound, he slowly opened his eyelids, his eyes were bright but his breath was weak.

A damn hope-shattering word came to my mind: back to the light, I turned around, trying to escape in disbelief.

Dad stopped me. When he called me, his voice seemed to be muddy, low and obscure.

It was my younger brother who stopped me and took my hand.

As I approached him, I watched him inch by inch, my father.

His hands were hanging on the edge of the bed, his face was similar to when he was just hospitalized, only a pair of eyes staring at us were slightly angry.

The father called the mother to the bedside to talk.

The words were like frustrating words... I gritted my teeth and ignored them.

Mother agreed, and turned to the side to get busy, giving us a seat.

Father called us by nicknames: "Yang'er, Fan'er."

His voice was hoarse and full of tenderness.

The last time like a passing moment.

Father looked at us, lips quivering, eyes darkening.

I felt something, and I knelt down shoulder to shoulder with my brother.

Father turned away, his pupils constricted, his face tensed, and the hand that held us just now slowly lost his strength...

He survived to the end, with all willpower.

My mother fainted on the spot, and my brother and I knelt down to bid farewell to my father...