Emotional choice 1:

Dad's gone

Walking in this cold winter.

Walk in

In our broken hearts

Dad's gone

Walking in the attachment to the mother who has lived together for 53 years.

Walk in

Hard-working all my life.

No message.

Not to mention a little cost.

Walk so tragically (signature)

Go so deep.

Dad's gone

at that moment

As if the sky were falling, I suddenly felt like a helpless child.

Tears can't stop flowing

I just feel like I've become myself

a fallen leaf

From then on, there was no direction.

Only confusion, uncertainty, fear and sadness.

Do one's best (Xunzi's famous saying)

All the crying and tears

Can't stay.

Has gradually drifted away, loving our father for a lifetime.

Dai Xiao is full of green hills.

1 full of sorrow.

All the villagers, all their relatives, brothers and sisters, all the wreaths and all the elegiac couplets can't stay.

A father who treats others well all his life.

All the incense sticks and firecrackers

Cann't wake up

Sleep (philosophical vocabulary)

Dad who has worked hard all his life

In grief, I don't know how far my memory can extend.

I don't know how long I will stay in this world.

Because everything is unpredictable.

Just like my father, he was aloof and tried to be kind, but the ending was so hasty and tragic.

I no longer naively believe the story that "good people are rewarded"

"Heaven has eyes" is just a coward's self-deception.

Although I won't be a bad person.

Because my father taught me before his death.

The days of working outside.

I always keep my relatives and family affairs in my heart.

Parents, wives and children, the whole family are safely engraved in memory.

They often become the motivation for me to endure humiliation outside.

I always thought that there would be many, many moments to honor my parents and raise my offspring, and I always thought that a perfect life would be in the near future.

However, just as this cold season is coming.

My sky is getting colder.

My sealed package was suddenly evacuated a lot-

Dad's gone

A heart that was once full.

Suddenly become so empty.

So many wonderful expectations before.

Suddenly become so pale

I don't know how much more suffering I have to go through

It's perfect.

It's like I don't know how many miles to walk.

It is the end.

I know it very well.

As long as you walk on the road for a day

Suffering will always be with you.

The days will still pass day by day, and the indifferent four monsoon will still scrape the gaunt face without salt and light.

Dad is gone, and he is no longer in pain.

The suffering of the world

Don't like our shouts.

It's just that this name will do great harm to the soul.

Although it hurts

However, I still have to think of my father sadly.

I have to review my bitter past over and over again.

Write down my memory and gratitude.

Dad's gone

But he will never leave my heart.

My descendants and I will always miss him.

May dad go all the way.

Emotional choice 2:

Dad's gone

Dad is gone, walking in this cold winter, walking in the place where we are heartbroken. Dad is gone, and we can't catch up with him day and night. Dad left, walking in a hard and busy life. Dear dad didn't leave a word, not a word. Although we were so dependent on him, he left without us, so tragic and so moved.

At this moment, as if the sky were falling, I suddenly felt that I was a helpless child, and my tears could not stop flowing. Although I am in my thirties, at this moment, I only feel like a fallen leaf, and I have no direction since then. I am at a loss, with unprecedented uncertainty, fear and sadness. I was mercilessly lined up by my neighbor's elders to pay my respects to my father. All the collapse and collapse, all the crying and tears, can't keep my father who has drifted away and loved us all his life. Dai Xiao is full of green hills, and 1 river is full of sadness. All the villagers, all the relatives, all the brothers and sisters, all the wreaths and all the elegiac couplets can't keep their father who has been kind to others all his life; All the incense sticks and firecrackers can't wake up my sleeping father who has worked hard all his life.

I am heartbroken, I don't know how far my memory can extend, and I don't know how long I will stay in this world. It is precisely because everything is unpredictable, just like my father's hard-working and kind life, the ending is so hasty and tragic. I no longer naively believe the story that "good people are rewarded". "Heaven has eyes" is just a coward's self-deception. Although I won't be a bad person, after all, I won't go against my father's education before his death, but I must be as strong as a mountain at home.

On the days of wandering outside, I always keep my relatives and family affairs in my heart. Parents, wives and children, the whole family are safely engraved on the memory curtain wall. They often become the driving force for me to bear the burden of humiliation outside, always thinking that there will be many, many moments to honor my parents and raise future generations, and always thinking that a perfect life is in the near future. However, in this cold season, at the threshold of this new year, my sealed package was suddenly evacuated-dad left! The once full heart suddenly became so empty; So many beautiful expectations in the past suddenly became so pale.

I don't know how much suffering I have to go through before I can be complete; Just like I don't know how many miles I have to walk to finish. I clearly know that as long as I walk on the road for one day, suffering will always accompany me! The days will still pass day by day, and the indifferent four monsoon will still scrape the gaunt face without salt and light! Dad is gone, he no longer suffers from the sufferings of the world, and he no longer enjoys our crying! Dad's name has since disappeared from my mouth, but my heart will become extremely painful because of this name! Although I often feel heartache, I still have to remember my father sadly, review his bitter past over and over again, and seriously write down my nostalgia and gratitude. Just because I can't forget it, so can my descendants!

Dad is gone, but he will never leave my heart! My descendants and I will always miss him! I know my father was in pain when he left, so I sincerely wish him a good journey! !

Emotional choice 3:

Dad's gone

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Yuan Weiyi's poems

Dad is a farmer, basically illiterate, but he is a smart man.

People born in the sixties always have some memories about hunger, but I don't. In that era of extreme shortage of materials, we not only had food and clothing, but also put on sweaters, pants and socks and dacron and polyester cards earlier than the children in the same period in the village ... all of these were supported by our father.

When I was very young, my father raised his family by herding sheep. Grandpa died when he was three years old. As the eldest son, he took on the heavy responsibility of bringing home the bacon early. At that time, the only occupation for a minor child to support his family was herding sheep. In an article, I once wrote: "There is no difference between high and low in life and high and low in career." This understanding originated from the father. In those days when I didn't have enough to eat, my father chose to herd sheep in order to make his loved ones live better. What a helpless choice!

In the morning, he always sets out with thick fog. At night, the sky is full of stars, so he can't go home. At noon in summer, the sun peeled off layers of skin from his back, and the cold wind in winter tore his hands one after another ... How many nights he lay in the cold temple thinking about his loved ones, and how many days he couldn't swallow his rice bowl from door to door. When he was lonely, he caressed the sheep and told his thoughts. When he is happy, he weaves his happiness into the children's sweaters ... In order to earn more work points, he runs around all the year round, not only leaving his share of rations at home, but also taking advantage of the opportunity of being in the wild all the year round to pick some unattended fruits for us in summer and some leftover food after the autumn harvest in winter.

After that, my father returned to the village as a breeder to feed the female animals for the brigade. This is the only place where the whole brigade raises livestock, which not only requires the breeder to have a strong sense of responsibility, but also can cope with the birth and rearing of those little creatures. Dad sleeps with those animals every night, listens to their chewing one after another at night, breathes the air full of their excrement, and endures the bites of mosquitoes and fleas growing on them, but Dad never complains. At that time, I often went to the farm to play after school, probably because my father was here. I don't think the air in that place smells bad at all. Touch the horse's back for a while, pull the donkey's tail for a while, and enjoy the gentle touch of sunshine with them. What remains in my memory at this moment is a different kind of warmth. Now every time I sprinkle fertilizer in the field in spring, I feel a kind of personality and feel that the taste is also a different kind of fragrance.

It is in this working environment that my father not only did a good job, but also quickly discovered the opportunity to create wealth. There are more days at home and a little more free time. One of his brothers and sisters first discovered the value of his father. The brother and sister are specially slaughtered, and they invite their father to buy sheep together every time, precisely because his father can decide how much meat a sheep can produce by touching it with his hand. After a long time, my father learned and understood how to kill sheep. So they often use their leisure time to buy some sheep, kill them after dark and cut them into pieces by the catty. Dad does these things at home and doesn't have to go to the farm to feed the animals. At 3: 00 or 4: 00 in the morning, the animals were fed and rested, and my father set off by bike with the mutton. He wants to get to Wangtai Mine before dawn, sell the meat before the workers go to work, and then return to his post around seven o'clock. In this way, my father sent away countless nights under the oil lamp and ushered in countless dawns in the cold wind. He used his hard work to get us a nutritious and delicious breakfast. At that time, people didn't recognize animal viscera and bones, didn't understand their nutritional value, and couldn't sell them for a few dollars, so they became our food. I fell asleep in the smell of stewed bones all winter. Boil sweet potatoes and drink mutton soup for breakfast every day.

Dad has no education and can't tell us about the three-character classics and disciples' rules, but he knows the truth that "filial piety comes first, morality comes first", "parents don't travel far" and "why burn incense far at home". He tells us what "filial piety" is with his own actions. When he was young, he had many opportunities to go out as a worker. 1957 The people who worked with him during steelmaking were later transferred to Wangtai Mine, but his father put them down. If my father leaves, my little grandmother may not even have water, let alone live to be over eighty years old.

When I was young, I heard that my father would come back, and we were full of expectations. At this time, as soon as he left the gate, we rushed to touch his bag. There are always some unexpected surprises in that ugly bag: a sesame seed cake, an oil cake, a handful of popcorn and even some oranges. Of course, these things are not rare for children today, but they were so rare in our eyes at that time. For years, no matter how hard life was, my father would buy some food for my grandmother every time he came home. When we happily give something to grandma, grandma often gives us four servings without tasting it, one for each of our three children. After the children got the gift, they offered to let their parents taste it. My parents just pretended, and the food was soon swallowed by us. In our decades of living with grandma, we have never seen a grumpy father angry with grandma, or a mother with a strong personality talking back to grandma. We dare not even say a bad word to our elders.

When the other children were still running wild, my father sent me to school early, two years earlier than the other children. I went to school for about a year, and maybe I just learned pinyin, so he asked me to help me remember my homework scores. I couldn't write those names and place names at that time, and I always used pinyin instead. Less than the third grade, I learned to write letters under his specific guidance. He said "I write a sentence", which means I must have written a lot of typos, but objectively I got an early exercise in organizing language.

My father has suffered a lot since I was admitted to the university. He thinks it is necessary to find a family sideline that can not only delay farm work but also generate income during the slack season. At that time, the rural areas had just implemented the contract responsibility system, and it was almost impossible for a farmer who had just acquired land to leave the land. In order to explore the 1 road, my father often visits the surrounding villages. Hard work really pays off. In the countryside around Gaoping Tangzhuang, the common people have their own habit of making "incense", which is used to worship ghosts and gods. These things were superstitious at that time and could not be made publicly. Dad took pains to understand the production technology and process of the product, and also inquired about the place to buy raw materials. So on a snowy night, my father set off with several woven bags. As for how he climbed the coal train, how he found the place, and how he escaped the police inspection and brought these things back, I don't know, and my father never told us.

Dad turned the upstairs where the grain was stored into a production site. In order not to attract the attention of his neighbors, he opened a passage at home and climbed up and down a very simple wooden ladder. In summer, it is sultry upstairs, so I dare not open more windows for fear that others will see it; It's cold upstairs in winter, so you can't make a fire for safety, just because those things are flammable. When the product is completed through many processes, the most difficult task is sales. In order to sell a good price, my father first ran around the hills and bunks, and then used his experience of fleeing Xiangyuan when he was young to start running between Gaoping and Xiangyuan. Xiangyuan has abundant land. Although the people don't have much money, they have enough food and can implement "barter". It is important to have an aunt's house. When I set out, my father always used his car to carry several large cartons. Although they are not too heavy, they are difficult to operate. When I came back, my weight turned several times, and I may have replaced it with hundreds of pounds of corn or beans. How much sweat does it take for a self-driving car to travel hundreds of miles a day with hundreds of pounds of things? I just can't imagine. My father had to go several times all winter. Of course, the income he earned at that time was very considerable, which could almost cover the annual income of an ordinary worker.

Dad was seriously ill because of a fracture of the femur and tibia on the ninth day of February the year before last.

As if I had a hunch, when I visited my parents on the second day of the first month, I even brought my camera, and my busy husband (original author: Han Youzhen) also came to have dinner with us at noon, thus leaving the last photo of my family and my father. The father in the photo smiled brightly, just like a naive child, and his face was full of joy. Unexpectedly, just one month later, my father was taken to the hospital because of a fracture.

Dad has suffered from cerebral infarction for more than ten years. Although his illness is getting worse every year, he can take care of himself on the whole. Accompanied by his mother, he often goes out for a walk and chats with the old man at the door. Dad was supposed to have a rest that night, but he accidentally slipped and sat on the ground. Dad tried to stand up with the help of his mother, tossing and turning for more than an hour. When he was taken to the hospital, the fractured femur and tibia were dislocated and a little shattered.

On the morning of sending my father for surgery, his expression was a little dull and his eyes were a little cloudy. I pretended to be very simple and said, what's the matter? Scared? Take it easy. It's not like we haven't had surgery. We will get over it soon. I didn't think this was just the beginning of dad's ordeal. The doctor quickly diagnosed dad with severe hypoxia, which was suspected to be a pulmonary infarction caused by bed rest of patients with cerebral infarction. The operation was impossible, so we had to push it back to the ward for thrombolysis. Less than a day later, I found that my father's stomach was a little big. I thought it was obesity, but the doctor reminded me to pay attention to observation. Unexpectedly, before noon, my father's stomach became bigger and bigger, and people became restless from numbness and confusion. The doctor diagnosed intestinal obstruction. In this way, dad was sent to the intensive care unit.

That night was so long that I deeply felt the helplessness of life for the first time. The invisible ghost seems to be hiding nearby. It wants to take my father away, and I hold my father's hand hard and tell them with my own actions that I can't just take my father away. I remember wearing a red windbreaker that day. I have always believed that this fiery auspicious and festive color will definitely scare away ghosts and help me protect my father. It's hard until dawn. After the doctor's full rescue, my father's stomach finally became normal, and he finally fell asleep quietly.

Two days later, we returned to the general ward, and my father's consciousness gradually recovered and his mood was relatively calm. He also knew that he had just gone through a life-and-death test. 10 days later, the doctor fixed the fracture site according to his father's condition. Because the oxygen saturation has been very low, the operation can only be performed under local anesthesia. I don't know how painful the operation is. Ever since I pushed my father back from the operating room, he has been in a state of fear, talking nonsense and always saying things like "here we go again" and "it hurts". As a child, it is difficult to express my feelings when I met my father. I really don't want to believe that a strong father is so fragile. I really want to hug him, touch him, tell him that I am with him, and tell him that everything will pass. But in fact, none of this has passed. Because of continuous thrombolysis, subcutaneous bleeding occurred in the surgical site a few days later. At the time of diagnosis, blood pressure has dropped to a critical value, and people are unconscious again.

Fortunately, with the help of the doctor, my father's condition finally stabilized again, but his consciousness was not as good as before. For a while, he was confused, and he forgot all about what had just happened. Sometimes he couldn't even call our names.

After leaving the hospital, under the care of the whole family, my father's condition is still very good. First, I will sleep on my side, and then I can sit on the quilt slowly for a while, and my face will gradually become rosy and plump. Especially after living in my hometown for a period of time in summer, with the help of others, I can already take a wheelchair for an hour or two. In those days, I felt a great sense of accomplishment when I looked at my father who was getting better day by day. Every time I look at him, I encourage him to stand up, study hard and understand wheelchairs. Dad is also trying to realize the children's wishes. He helped the toddler stand up whenever he had the chance. He wants to learn and understand self-reliance and doesn't want to be a burden to others.

Last spring, at my suggestion, my father was admitted to the hospital again. Originally, he wanted to do a period of rehabilitation, hoping to get back on his feet with the help of a doctor. However, the later results were not satisfactory. Maybe I have already seen through life and death, maybe I know myself better than we do. After leaving the hospital, my father behaved very calmly, only occasionally asking my mother: When shall we go home? His mother sometimes teases him that this is our home. Where else do you want to go? He solemnly said to his mother, I want to go back to my hometown in Gaoping.

May Day is coming, and the weather is very warm. The whole family decided to let dad go home. First, there are many people in the family, and people will not be lonely and come and go; In addition, the wheelchair can be pushed out to let dad know more about the sunshine. When I got home that day, my father performed surprisingly well. He even walked in through the gate with the help of others.

Dad is a little lazy when he comes home. He sleeps a long time every day. He only eats occasionally and wants to lie down after dinner. At first, I thought it was hard work on the road, so it would be fine to rest for a few days, but later I thought it was not. I don't know what my father was thinking in his last days. I don't want to ask him, just because I don't want to face the topic of death directly. He hasn't said anything, maybe he's running away, maybe he feels too tired. When I go home to see my father, I sometimes find tears in his eyes, but I always turn my head in time. Now that I think about it, it's really an escape. If I had known this day would come so early, I should have communicated with my father more, or at least let him know my respect and love for him.

Dad suddenly left, and finally he couldn't tell what caused his death. It's just that things really happened inexplicably. For various reasons, our three children are not around. Dad didn't leave a word, nor did he say a word to his mother.

In those days when I saw my father off, I felt very personal. I always felt that my father was with us. He just slept there quietly, so there didn't seem to be much sadness during the day. Lying in bed at night, thinking about spending less and less time with my father will make me feel very painful, especially after getting up in the morning, the thought of spending another day with my father will spread all over my body immediately. The night before I bid farewell to my father, I spent the night in Peng Ling, stroking the coffin with my hand, feeling that I was stroking his big hand, leaning against the edge of the coffin, feeling that I was leaning against my father's chest, and I didn't feel the long moment at all. But the thought of never seeing my father again makes me feel sad and unbearable.

Dad is gone, I want to say a lot to him, but what I want to say most is: if there is an afterlife, I would like to be your child! Dad, do you like me?