The way home

"Mom, I'm out of Gansu."

"Mom, I'm in Xi 'an. "

"Mom, I crossed the Yangtze River Bridge."

"Brother, I will arrive at 3: 15, and you will pick me up!"

……

? ( 1)

? There are thousands of roads in this world, but there is only one way home. She stretches out from your homesick eyes-golden rice waves come and go, humming with the wind, as if playing a harvest song, the sun on the head is not to be outdone, with a straight face, silently roasting the earth, my father is cutting the ears of rice, and the sweat of beans is falling one by one. He bumped into the land under his feet along his cheek ... He called it "his back to the loess and his back to the sky". He said that "everything is inferior, only reading is high". His famous saying under his cane "The only way to jump the farm gate is reading", so from this yellow land, from this golden ear of rice that sings every year, from the sweat that is cut forever, there is a way to jump the farm gate and a way to leave home. ...

? Retreating from difficulties is his best education. In early spring and March, frogs in rice fields just began to croak. On a sleeping morning, he called you to go to the fields, pull out seedlings or go home to cook and read. Then you hold your hand, and the water in the paddy field is obviously cold and icy. You have to walk barefoot into muddy rice fields, where there are terrible leeches ... so you choose to go home and read unconditionally. ...

? At that time, there was a large vegetable field at home, and it was always difficult to fertilize every time, so he would pull a scooter to pull manure in various districts of the county. I'm the one pushing the dung cart in the back, and God knows how much I hate this job. I would rather stay at home and read books all day than go on such a trip. Pushing a scooter with dung stinks and takes a lot of effort. You will meet teachers and classmates along the way, so you always bury your head. His face was red and swollen, and he said in front, "You have to suffer to be a master." Otherwise, you won't have to do all this hard work after you study hard ... I admit that I was naive at that time, and it was really naive to try to pretend to escape. And I was in this innocence for a long time in my childhood, even in my youth. I don't like rainy days I am afraid that my travel-stained mother will appear among the well-dressed parents with a broken umbrella. I hate it when teachers ask my parents why they always make me wear these old clothes. I am the most inconspicuous child in that pile, and I will feel unconsciously lonely when I watch it myself ... The only thing that makes me stand out is that my grades are not bad. In the evening after finishing my homework, I kept pouring out my childish feelings in my diary.

? In this way, at the age of 19, I finally succeeded in leaving home and went to the northwest where my grandparents never thought I had been. Obviously, he's sorry. He was anxious and bored in those days when he received the notice. He discussed with his knowledgeable neighbors on the threshing floor whether this place could be visited. Do you want to repeat it for another year ... his eldest daughter, who once made him proud, was not admitted to a key university, which stung him. What I never told him was that I quietly changed my wish and put my dream of riding to school in the northwest as my first choice.

(2)

? September 2, 2002, I will probably never forget this day in my life: the train is about to start, and I am sitting in a window seat, a little excited and yearning. He stood outside the window with his mother, who had already lost her eyes, noisy voice and thick window. She couldn't hear what he was saying, only her lips were moving, her eyes were moist, and her calloused hands kept moving on the window. I saw him and his mother running faster and faster. The thick palm was actually wiping away tears, and he cried. This is the only time I 19 witnessed it ... Maybe, like every child who expected to leave home, I was a little cold and stubborn at that time. It was not until the train arrived in another city that I let go of my emotions and thought about my home so greedily and unscrupulously in hazy tears. ...

? After more than 50 hours' drive from Hankou, I finally arrived at the gate of my alma mater, which is really far from the beauty I imagined. So I decided to pack my bags and go to work in the south today. This courage makes me admire you for running away today. If I had left that day, where would I be today, what kind of people would I meet and what kind of life would I lead ... However, it may not be those distant celebrities or your close relatives and friends who have changed you. Maybe it's a casual little gesture of a stranger you met ... I dragged my suitcase into a noodle restaurant that day and wolfed down the bill with only three yuan in change. The aunt in the noodle restaurant saw me in a dilemma and said enthusiastically, girl, just give me three yuan. It's not easy to leave home. I will come here often in the future. She always smiles, and the early autumn wind blows through her hair and her face, giving me an inexplicable power in an instant. With such understanding and sincere smile, the intimate "girl" suddenly dismissed my idea of leaving: maybe this is a place worth experiencing, and I want to stay and feel the enthusiasm of the northwest. ...

? During my four years of college life, like many poor children, I was a little careless, relaxed my study, and frantically searched for various opportunities to make money and reduce the burden on my parents: I went to the beef noodle restaurant at the side door to wash dishes after class, and I went to be a tutor when I didn't have classes at night. On weekends, we either go to major supermarkets to promote sales, or go to small Amway teams for classes, activities and lectures, and sometimes do small business. In the evening, the tutor comes back to sell Tibetan ornaments in every dormitory. Basically, I fell asleep after midnight every day. Even when I broke my leg, I sold calling cards there when I lived in the dormitory ... Now that I think about it, it's really crazy. When I was a freshman, I wore professional clothes and high heels everywhere, so that most of my classmates in the university didn't have redundant friendship except my sisters in the dormitory, so I was teased by them and always moved ... The installation company bus station came out from the tutor's home, and now it's 1 1: 30. Snowflakes are fluttering outside, and dim street lamps set off the foggy white road. There are no pedestrians on the road, and it looks like MINUS ten degrees. The exhaled gas felt instantly melted, and my feet were frozen. If I choose to take a taxi, it will be a waste of time. I will keep breathing and kicking my feet. Later, I always think of a night like that, when I could bear hardships. This is probably the best quality that my father passed on to me.

? Every winter, when the final exam approaches, I begin to look forward to going home. I use my little money to buy Xinjiang specialties for my family and some novel gifts for my parents, brothers and sisters. Then I went home and opened my suitcase to see their smiling faces. My happiness instantly overflowed my chest, eating my mother's cooking, watching my father drink a little wine, and listening to me with my brothers and sisters about the interesting things that happened this year. It's so beautiful that such a picture has become the goal of many years' efforts in the future.

? People are really strange animals. Although they were poor at that time, they are no longer poor now, but they still yearn for what they once had. So what are we doing in this life, want to draw a bigger circle, go further, experience more people and things, and return to that starting point? Walking, I often feel a little lost. When I stopped to look back, my home had become an unreachable distance, so I had only one way to go. I hope that even if I go further in this direction and go around a bigger circle, as long as I don't stop, my home is still there, my parents are still there, my brothers and sisters are still waiting for me, and when I get home, even if I am a little late and slow, the food is still steaming and my parents are still waiting.

? (3)

? In the continuous journey, your longing for home and expectation for home are no longer just the simple and primitive impulse to go home for the New Year, but sometimes it is more like a pilgrimage of devout believers. No matter how difficult it is, you are always firm. ...

? At that time, there was no through train, so we had to change trains everywhere. It is conceivable that one ticket is hard to find, but even if you stand back, your will to go home is still firm. Therefore, the four-year trip home from college is more like a physical and mental experience again and again. Sometimes I stood for two days and two nights, sometimes I stayed in the waiting room for a day, lived in the conductor's house and was cheated by a charlatan, but my kind heart never changed. I remember once going back to Hankou from home and turning around. With the help of the conductor, I got on the train and squeezed into a position near the door. I can sit on my luggage. A mother and daughter came up from Lanzhou, and there was no seat. The bus is so crowded that there is no room. It is equally difficult for me to invite the eight-year-old girl to sit on my lap. Get off the bus for 30 hours, stand up and walk with shaky legs. Back to the dormitory, I opened my luggage, and my mother's biscuits and other new year's goods were all pink. However, there is no loss or unhappiness ... This sunny mentality probably won my father's biography, but it is also dangerous to think about it now, because the sincere trust at that time was actually stable and smooth, at best, it was only a little money, so I am still very grateful: I live in the conductor's house, and people don't sell me, but only accept the money for dinner and the handling fee for helping me get on the bus. Those swindlers didn't cheat me out of all my money, but cleverly left me a trip home ... in fact, it's not easy for everyone. If the conductor has to sell train tickets to support his family, if those swindlers have to, you can always learn to understand, forgive and then choose to let go. ...

? I always disapprove of those who exaggerate their sufferings and wait for help from all directions. What I admire is often those who are in deep suffering but always struggle, never give up, and still want to rely on themselves no matter how hard and tired they are. My father is undoubtedly such a person. There were only three brothers and sisters who were one or two years apart in those years. I don't know how much burden this is for poor families. However, he and his mother only personally trained two and a half college students. The stubborn brother insisted on choosing to be a soldier during the college entrance examination. At that time, his father was involved in the construction of the Qinghai-Tibet Railway, but he failed to stop it, which broke the dreams of his three college students. He traveled all over the country, including Sichuan, Guangxi, Shenzhen, Hangzhou, Qinghai, Tibet ... or bridge construction, or railway construction, or large-scale housing construction. Every place has his footprints, and every construction site has shed his youth and blood. Although he only has a junior high school education, he has extraordinary professional skills. Cleverness and wisdom have helped those contractors save a lot of money on the site structure again and again ... I remember a young man in the group who went out to work with his father and I had an unintentional chat. He said, your father is really something. His method directly saved the boss 20 million to 30 million, which immediately surprised me and made me respect. He may not be just a migrant worker, but he is a great engineer. It's just that his family is poor and he can't give him a platform to achieve himself.

? Every year when he is not at home, we start counting our fingers. My father will be back in a few days. Like all migrant workers, he may have to go home after a hard year, get on the green leather train with meager hard-earned money, reunite with his family and have a warm year. Year after year, he always brought back only interesting stories, sincere friendship and happy past, but those imaginable hardships were never mentioned. He told us about the life of local Tibetans, saying that Tibetans don't eat fish because of water burial, but often give him fish to eat. He shared photos with local villagers, told us how good they were to him, and left him an address and contact information for him to play in the future ... I totally believe all this. I left home because I wanted to go home, and I endured the bumpy road to leave home because I wanted to go home more smoothly. Not only him, but also our ordinary family, and the repeated journey and story of thousands of migrant children in Qian Qian, China ... and I so hope that this journey can have more warmth, even if it is only the warmth in the eyes of head-up. This story can be told to more people. Maybe you met not only a migrant worker, but also a father.

? (4)

? I will never forget the autumn of 2009, that trip home, our family experienced more than 800 long waits full of tears and sweat. ...

I remember that autumn, I just arrived in Suzhou and prepared for a wonderful holiday. At that time, my father was on the construction site of Shanghai-Hangzhou high-speed railway, just in Hangzhou, not far apart. I am also very happy to bring a box of fresh grapes and two big cantaloupes. Then no one expected that a huge evil consumption fell from the sky. On the first day, I called my father and asked him to come to Suzhou directly. He said that the boss hadn't paid his salary for another two days, and he couldn't get in touch the next day. We repeatedly told the people who worked there that my father had an accident on the construction site, and we always stressed that it was not too serious. My brother and I immediately decided to go to Hangzhou, when my brother was also working in Suzhou.

? I remember it rained heavily that day, more than the downpour. God seems to be venting freely. Although we brought an umbrella, we still looked like a drowned rat. When we arrived, we realized that dad had been hit hard on the head. The helmet was smashed directly, and some of his right brain skulls were broken. How serious is it? When we arrived, we had finished craniotomy, and the doctor said whether we could wake up depends entirely on the patient's wishes. At that moment, I felt that my sky had collapsed. I can't describe the sadness, but I have nowhere to vent. On the one hand, I want to comfort my mother at home, on the other hand, I am surrounded by my brother who is still wet behind the ears. That night, my brother lay in the bed of the hotel crying. I didn't comfort him. Although he is a boy, the youngest child in this family is often the most vulnerable. I always believe that God is fair. He won't let such a great father never find his way home. My father will definitely stand up again and come home with us!

? It is this powerful belief that silently supports me. I hardly shed tears, but insisted on doing what I thought I should do-

? In the intensive care unit, my father was lying quietly in the hospital bed, his head was wrapped in thick gauze, his eyes and chin were stitched with needles, his face was red, swollen and bruised, and his body and limbs were not injured. As usual, he is thin and thin. I leaned over the bed and held his hand, so tears fell unconsciously: how did this strong mountain man fall? Although he is not tall, he is so strong. He always runs and walks. How did he fall? How can he lie down like this? What kind of pain did he suffer? What a long process he will go through ... his eyes are closed and his fingers are still. He can't see me, and he can't hear me ... The doctor said optimistically that the possibility of waking up is very small, and he may be brain-dead and become a vegetable. I think I may have completely ignored the doctor's words. Based on what I know about him, he will definitely stand up again.

? My brother and I bought a summer mat and laid it at the door of the intensive care unit. We should pay close attention to the changes of father's temperature 24 hours a day. If the body temperature drops after a high fever, it will be a successful start. My mother and sister arrived, and we split up, went to the construction site to find out the situation, negotiated with Party A for a high medical fee, and rented a house to settle down for the next "Long March life". ...

? Visiting time in ICU is only half an hour every day. In order to cherish this half hour, we recorded many words to wake up our families. One day, two days, three days ... I remember one day, we were standing by the bed, chatting one by one, and my father shed a tear in the corner of his eye. This is really not a movie plot. He really heard our call to wake up. The doctor said that the patient's will to survive was unusual and sober. In this way, on the 38th visiting day, he really woke up, only to see his bruised eyes opened feebly, and some muddy eyes looked at the world quietly. We gathered around in high spirits and called out to Dad excitedly. Obviously, he doesn't know us, but what does it matter? At least he's alive and with us. ...

? After 38 long days of waiting, our two classes fell on the floor at the entrance of the intensive care unit. Mosquitoes wreak havoc at night and often bite us all, but none of us say anything, just wait and concentrate, as if devout believers ... What I have heard and seen in these 38 days has made me realize that life is so fragile, so fragile that it is as simple as breaking a glass bottle, a car accident and a construction site accident. Surgical accidents ... life is far away from each other, heartbreaking cries, people's running and anxiety, parents and children's anxious waiting ... Life may be just a reincarnation, but each individual is not an independent individual, so I hope God can be kind and leave a possibility of waiting and a hope. ...

? The day after Dad woke up, we were transferred to Hangzhou Military Region Hospital for rehabilitation. At first, we were at a loss about a series of problems. We don't know how to serve a patient's food and drink Lazarus, so that we are all at a loss when dad takes a shit. Finally, we had to hire a nurse, and then my sister and I learned how to use a gastric tube, use a ventilator, and provide urine ... so that in later days, people in the hospital thought there were two young and capable nurses. At that time, dad had to take a lot of intravenous drip every day, so we often chose to use indwelling needles to save a few needles, but he was still awake at that time. Only brute force can stop Rao. In the end, he will only tie his limbs to the four bedsteads of the hospital bed with cloth strips. Of course, I'm just afraid that he will push the quilt at night, and we will try our best to take care of him during the day.

? In this way, the trachea opened around the neck to help breathing prevent inflammation was gradually sealed, the stomach tube inserted in the nose was pulled out and began to eat independently, and then the long hyperbaric oxygen chamber rehabilitation treatment began, and finally it was possible to slowly move to the ground. After a long time, I can't remember the exact date. I used to be just a military hospital running on hyperbaric oxygen. When I found that it didn't work, we transferred to a private hospital specializing in rehabilitation. Later, due to serious hydrocephalus, he was transferred to Zhejiang Second Hospital for drainage and skull repair. After these two operations, my father's mind gradually recovered ... At that time, he still didn't speak and gave him a pen. He actually wrote his brother's name. Then, whatever you give him, he will share it with his brother. The apple will be divided into two halves, the egg will be divided into two halves, and the money will be given directly to his brother ... Although he has never preferred boys to girls, the three of us have always been full of love, but in that primitive desire and desire, his youngest son is his favorite person. My sister and I are not jealous, just because we know that his next five-year plan is to build a house for my brother, so he won't leave easily without finishing it. Perhaps this is his strong support in this long and difficult course. I suddenly feel a little sad. For most of his life, because he has been giving and never taking, because he didn't know who he was when he first woke up thinking of his brother ... He was a father and was born to be called a father-

? I haven't fully experienced such a trip home. After returning to work, more burdens were placed on my sister. The second child in this family has a hot personality and a strong style. I especially admire that she was eight months pregnant and went to Hangzhou alone to coordinate all parties to ask for compensation from her father. She took care of most of her father's work while I was away. I remember once, when I arrived from work, there was no bed in the hospital of Zhejiang No.2, just in the corridor. Dad is lying in the hospital bed. She put a bib on him, coaxed him to eat and fed him bit by bit. Dad didn't cooperate and kept hitting her with his hand, but she still coaxed him like a child. The sun shines through the window of the corridor. Shining on them warmly ... I looked at them quietly and suddenly moved to tears. What is success? Maybe this is my father's success. When you are old, when you can't take care of yourself, your children will always be by your side. ...

? In the winter of 20 1 1, my father finally set foot on his way home. The journey is long and hard, but we also feel the power of home, which brings us a sense of belonging and happiness. My father finally stood up and went home with us. This winter has suddenly become unusually warm-

(5)

? Some people say that there is no suffering in life, only experience. When all the sufferings are in the past, it is only then that the stubbornness of never bowing down and never giving up deeply touched every day of dancing in the wind ... I can't help looking back, and I saw myself, my father, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and many strangers who accompanied us through this journey ... to make you believe that the world is really beautiful, my father's love and filial piety are beautiful, and my United and harmonious home is beautiful. The help that strangers showed quietly and naturally was also so beautiful ... The landlord and aunt broke the rules of short rent and rented the house to us, the fruit and nutrition products sent by patients' families again and again, the meticulous care and patient service of nurses, the surgeon refused to accept our red envelopes and tried his best to complete the operation, and even the warm atmosphere of the hospital.

? I often feel that we are happy. After so many journeys, maybe it can be considered as an ordeal. Home is still there. She keeps calling you, son. Go home when you are tired.

? In the past few years after my father was discharged from the hospital, I traveled on the railway whenever I had time, from one person to two or three people. More often, I take care of the children myself. From his first full moon to three and a half years old, I took him back and forth to my home alone ... people who have never been far away may never understand. The sentence "Didn't you go home this year" made you think a lot: those two exhausted their youth and lost their health. Now that my father is over 60 years old, if God is merciful and can be healthy to 80 years old, then we will have met more than a dozen times in my life. I don't want to think so. I am afraid that the tragedy of "children want to raise but are not with their relatives" will be staged on me again. Grandpa's unexpected death made me very sad, so I am willing to cherish everything that God has given me now and do my duty as a daughter, even if I am still in a foreign country of more than 4,000 kilometers, even if I go home.

? A few years before leaving the hospital, my father was still suffering from illness. Epilepsy, the sequela of brain injury, often seems to torment him. At first, it happens twice a month, then once a month, and then twice a month. Finally, my sister found a folk prescription and finally recovered. I remember witnessing it twice when I went home. Once, I was in an old house. My father grabbed the handrail of the stairs by himself. Suddenly, we heard a loud noise downstairs. My father fell, convulsed all over, and there was blood on his forehead and back of his head. I was scared to tears. My mother held him down at once, and after a while she became quiet. We carried him to bed. He was quiet, without shouting or even humming. It is hard for me to imagine that he is. Another time was to take care of the children at home during maternity leave. One day, my father was taking a bath in the bathroom, and suddenly he began to twitch on the ground, and his palms and soles turned out uncontrollably. Fortunately, he didn't fall. When his mother held him down and stabilized him, we couldn't lift him, so we quickly called my brother ... My brother and mother didn't dare to go far away, and they stayed at home all the time. My sister often lived at home with her children. Fortunately, he is finally getting better and better, and there are no sequelae.

? I especially like and miss that scene. As soon as you open the door, stick your head out and smile enthusiastically, and then watch him smile there. "Who am I?" "You are you are ..." He pointed at me and kept smiling at me, forgetting my name again. "I am the boss of your family, your eldest daughter, dad!" I tell him a little seriously every time, and then he is a little embarrassed to say "I know I know". This long course of disease not only took away his normal health, but also worn away most of his memories. Although he knows who I am in his heart, he often can't remember my name, just smiling all over his face, thus welcoming you back ... but for me, it is full of happiness. At home, I often sit on the sofa with him and recall the past. I told him that he was very happy and enjoyed it. I also took a selfie with him on my mobile phone to see his particularly cooperative smile. Even now, he reminds me to visit my grandma and go to menstruation's house in his way. He walks to his grandmother's house for a long time after dinner every morning, as if he had never said anything, but I can understand that he is doing his son's duty.

? This autumn, the village began to lay natural gas pipelines. He looked at the remaining cement and struggled to find a small bucket to hold some cement and water. At home, he found a spy who had not been used for many years to level the rotten concrete floor in front of grandma's house. Although it was difficult for him, his heart really touched me, and then he sprinkled some water every day until the ground began to become dry enough to walk. ...

? This autumn, I only stayed at home for a few days and embarked on a long journey. It's just that I left my children with my parents. The clever little guy often says to me, "Mom, grandpa always drags his feet when he can't walk, so I take him away." "Mom, grandpa always has a runny nose when eating. I'll get him some paper ... I don't know what kind of children I can raise, but if he can bear it.

? Every time I leave home, I feel a sense of loss and energy. My home seems to be my gas station. If I don't come back for a long time, I may stop at the side of the road and I won't start it. Come back for a long time, I will stay in the state of just filling up the oil, with high morale, high enthusiasm and passion. ...

? Go through a work trip and fantasize about the next trip home. Listen to other people's stories and recall the past. I feel that the enrichment of life is more reflected in the road, and my heart yearns for something to rely on, and my eyes are full of tears. Maybe I love my hometown as much as my father. ...

? I am about to embark on the road home, even though I have walked the same scenery and the same road countless times, my heart is still full of expectations. Perhaps when the outside world is no longer synonymous with beauty, when colorful neon lights flash until my eyes are blurred, and when friends around me meet them, they are all in a hurry, and only the way home is so clear. There she was, crossing the desert and mountains and rivers, and a straight road pointed to the door left unlocked: dad was sitting on the sofa waiting quietly and safely, and mom was in the kitchen.