After I went to high school, my parents finally saved some money, and looked at the second floor next door, and felt uncomfortable, and always felt that their house was a dwarf, and the child would be a dwarf in the future, but because the first floor was built when it was old, and the foundation bearing capacity did not know how, so they built up the front gate building with two side houses, and started their own interior decoration.

I remember one time when I was moving furniture, I accidentally picked up a love letter from my father, "Letter of Repentance". I was amazed by my father's timeless writing, but I hesitated and didn't know what to do. Should I put it back if I don't know, or should I return it to my father when I know it?

My father had bad eyes, and according to his own account, he used to study very hard, but he had a high fever in middle school, and his family did not have the money to send him to the hospital for treatment, which burned out the eye nerve, so he began to study not very well. When I was admitted to university, it happened to be 1977, and I met the third class and didn't get in, so I suffered from not reading all my life, sweated all my life without reading, and then I also fell into a problem of bad eyes for a lifetime.

Over the years he has been working outside, he has been wearing a pair of thick glasses, more than 1,800 degrees plus glaucoma.

At that time, I picked up a letter that my father had written to his lover who he met when he was working, and put it in my pocket, my heart beating all the time. A sentence written by my father kept echoing in my head, "I am over half a hundred years old, and I have nothing to achieve, but I still have four children to raise, and my wife has worked hard all year round, and she also has ...... illness."

It wasn't until my father started asking me if I had picked anything up that I was thinking about how to return it to him. After all, it's just a letter, and it doesn't really represent anything.

However, when my father asked about me, I was suddenly attacked by a sense of guilt, and I felt guilty for my father. I thought of my mom, and she didn't know anything.

The old mother, who looks innocent and loves to laugh and works hard, thinks of her, in addition to cooking three meals on time every day, washing clothes, and going to the nearby military school to clean up and earn some pocket money. My heart began to feel guilty and uneasy.

I didn't know how to give it back to my dad, and I didn't know if I should tell my mom.

Then I came up with the idea of pretending not to know anything. When my father asked, I said, "I don't know anything, I haven't seen it."

If my mother asked me again, I would say, "I don't know." Then, I put the letter in my purse and began to imagine that if she looked through my purse and took out a letter and asked me, then she was looking for herself and was not bored, so don't blame me. It would have been better if she hadn't had that, I wouldn't have told her.

In fact, I felt like I was punishing her for telling her about it, for going through my diary and pointing at me with what I said, turning over my stuff and leaving me with no sense of security.

Deep down I was conflicted. I was extremely unbearable, I felt that I was cruel, why should I let my mother know such a thing. She took care of us day and night, and worked very hard for us to get up early and stay late.

My heart is painful. I felt that I should tell her that concealment was also a betrayal. If I don't tell her, I will betray her, just like my father. This is something I can't tolerate myself, she can accuse me, but I can't betray her. Because she has always been my mother. So that's when I started to sympathize with her and forgive her.

So when she took the letter and questioned me, I denied that the letter was written by my father, but by my friend's father, and my friend found out, and she showed it to me and wanted to tear it up, and I thought it was very well written, so I kept it.

I don't know if my mother believed such a lie or not, but she let me burn it at the time, and I didn't make a noise, I didn't make a fuss.

After the confession incident, I felt guilty about my mother. She could have lived in her dream of a perfect marriage, but I cruelly broke it.

So, I began to feel hypocritical about my father's beautiful image of being a righteous man and a gentleman, loyal and honest, but he was still the father who loved me the most, he was over half a hundred years old, and the romantic feelings in his bones from beginning to end had not changed, his marriage had been happy, and his family had been perfect. He is still happy and complete.

He used his shoulders to hold up a piece of the sky for this family, but no one could understand the loneliness of his soul behind his smile.

Eighteen years in prison, I can be relieved. Eighteen years of patience will make it all over again. After eighteen years of struggle, we will be able to live the life we want. Eighteen years, not long or short, there is time to forgive everything, everything can be forgiven.

And what about the full version of this matter?

Before the Chinese New Year this year, I gave birth to my baby with a soft milky fragrance, because a week after the due date, the baby did not need to move, and was hospitalized to induce labor, and there was no response. Just now I was on the same day and the due date and at the same time hospitalized a girl is also in this situation, but she did not give birth two hours after the induction, in the middle of the night decided to plan the obstetrics and gynecology, and a colleague, because the delivery time is too long, the child suffocated cerebral palsy, Mr. Liu and I were nervous all day, and finally Mr. Liu suggested that it is safe to plane the obstetrics and gynecology.

On the third day after the operation, I walked on the ground, but somehow, I contracted a cold and developed a high fever at night, once reaching 39 degrees Celsius. My mother-in-law sprained her waist because she was serving me in the hospital and had to go home to rest, and Mr. Liu had to take care of me and the baby, and he had to run back and forth, which was really busy. Mr. Liu called my mom and hoped that she would take care of me for a while. And I didn't want her to come at one time, I always felt that she had worked hard all her life, and I didn't want to trouble her anymore. But she, who had never been out alone, came without hesitation.

While taking care of me, I was fortunate enough to hear a love story from my mom about them, and my heart was suddenly relieved.

This is still the story of the 80s, when I was young, my mother was introduced to my father by a matchmaker, at that time, my father was 1.78 meters tall, thin, fair and clean, like a handsome guy.