A short essay in memory of my dead mother 1: I often see some articles in memory of my mother in prose net, which makes me deeply moved and shed tears. I can't help infinite grief creeping into my heart, full of pain, sadness and regret. Unfortunately, my mother died young. At that ignorant age, my memory was blank. Where can I find the image of my mother? Although my father married my stepmother later, it seems that there is a distance between us, which hinders maternal love. In my heart, I still can't believe that she is my mother, and I am sad from time to time for why my biological mother left me. In that distant heaven, do you still miss me and live alone and painfully? The departure of life has no choice but to obey. If you can choose to leave your life. I think, my mother will never leave me, go to the distant kingdom of heaven, and go to Enron quietly. Like all mothers, she will bring me up and make me happy! Never part with me in the distant heaven.
? Children with mothers are like treasures, and children without mothers are like grass? . My mother's death took away my warm maternal love and left me alone, which was unbearable. Like stray cats and dogs, a person walking in the street will be threatened and bullied by the same kind at any time. I am the stray cat and dog, and sometimes I am ridiculed or abused by my friends, saying that I am Mrs. Mo, nobody wants me, my uncle doesn't love me, my grandmother doesn't love her young heart, grievances spread from the bottom of my heart, tears fall from my face like raindrops, and even I can't stand the ridicule of my friends and cry. Whenever this time, they will laugh and rush away, leaving me in a sad place.
At that time, because I was young, I didn't know what maternal love was. I only know that people have a mother, but I don't. People call me mom, mom, mom. From that moment on, I seem to know a vague maternal love. When the storm strikes, the mother will shelter her children from the wind and rain; When the cold comes and the summer goes, the mother will add clothes to the children to keep out the cold and strip them of the summer heat; As soon as there is a headache, fever and pain, the mother will go to the doctor with her child on her back and take an injection to take medicine. Although I know maternal love, I also know maternal love, and I am more eager to have a maternal love to iron my lonely heart. Let me no longer be wronged, laughed at and abused by my peers, and have a mother who bathes in maternal love, grows up happily and lives happily like them. However, my mother is dead and buried in the ground. No matter what, I can't let her out of the grave! Call back from the distant heaven! How can I get maternal love? Although I have a stepmother, I am not her own. How can she give me maternal love? Often ignored, sometimes beaten and scolded for no reason. In her eyes, I am not her child at all, but her burden. So as long as her face turns cloudy, she will vent a downpour on me and take me seriously. As a mother, why do I have the heart to abuse me like this? Not afraid of being scolded and criticized? However, my stepmother completely ignored what she did and let her character be mean to me. Poor, weak me, I can only bear it, but I won't fight back or scold back. However, in my heart, I don't treat my stepmother as a mother at all, and I don't even bother to call her mother.
Accustomed to resignation, I became taciturn and didn't like to associate with people. If a lady who lives in a boudoir is ashamed to see a pair of surprised eyes, she has to hide in the boudoir. I am afraid of those poor eyes, telling my unusual bitterness and thinness, sighing one after another, and helplessness one after another, adding to my pain. The birth of life is helpless, and so is the departure of life. My birth was helpless, and my mother's departure was even more helpless. You can only struggle in helplessness, suffer in helplessness and live in helplessness.
Growing up, I walked alone without warm love. As time goes by, I grind the bitter outline into powder and mud and sprinkle it on the title page of memory. Turn over a page of memory, get out of the shadow of loneliness and forget the pain of growing up. The power given by life dominates one's own destiny, erecting the mast, pulling up the sail, breaking the wind and waves, sailing to the coordinates of life and reaching the other side of happiness.
After many twists and turns in my life, I can finally wander in a colorful city like others. Riches and splendor tempt my heart, and I no longer suffer from not having a mother's love. However, I can't help thinking, I don't have a mother! Although my mother died when I was very young, leaving me alone to grow up in this world, I was wronged and suffered from the pain of not having a mother's love, but I still want to thank my mother for giving me life, making me grow up painfully in this world and experiencing extraordinary hardships. Perhaps, I lack maternal love, gain the experience of painful growth, and understand that life is short and long, and the world is cold and self-aware. Perhaps, on my unknown life path, I will be more determined, less timid, more knowledgeable and more rational. In the face of setbacks in life, I will tighten the strings of my will; In the face of fate's teasing, I will be calm, let nature take its course, calm down, settle down in the past of fate, cross the hurdle and turn the corner, which is a brand-new beginning.
My mother is still blank in my heart, which makes me miss my mother more, search for vague memories and look for fragments of the past, but I still can't remember my mother's face. I rummaged through everything to find a photo of my mother, but unfortunately my mother didn't leave any. Helpless thoughts are not a taste. I can only think of my mother lying quietly on the hillside, raising a handful of loess, which is where my mother lives. I wonder how many years my mother has been lying alone on the hillside. What a shame! I don't know when my mother was born. I don't know when my mother died. As a human being, I don't even know the date of my mother's birth, leaving dust to worship the sun. This is a great unfilial and unforgivable disrespect, which has produced a sense of guilt in my heart. I am sorry for my mother and bear my mother's self-condemnation. ? The tree wants to be quiet but the wind will not stop, and the son wants to raise it but not close? . I don't expect to be filial at my mother's bed like those dutiful sons! I just want to know what my mother looks like, what is her last name and who? However, my little wish can't come true. It can only aggravate my guilt and my mother's mental burden. Every time someone asks about my mother, I have nothing to say. At that moment, I was so tired, so shy, so guilty, so self-blaming, so unfilial.
Although there is no impression of my mother in my memory, I can't outline my mother's smile in my mind, except for a blank. But I still deeply wish my mother a happy life in heaven! The unfilial son missed his mother who died in bad karma.
Miss my mother's way through essay 2: miss my mother's most beautiful voice in the world, which is my mother's call.
Dante
My mother is as ordinary and simple as all mothers in the world. She has never read a book for a day, but she can recite the Sui and Tang Dynasties by heart. She has never worshipped a teacher, but she is proficient in acupuncture and moxibustion in traditional Chinese medicine. I admire my mother's extensive knowledge and strong memory, and I am even more glad that my mother gave me a sound personality. At the instigation of my mother, my brother became a teacher after graduating from college, and I have been engaged in theoretical propaganda. Two sons born in poverty are loyal and conscientious in their ordinary posts, serving the land where they were raised and persisting in their beloved cause. This year, mom has left us 16 years. Although she didn't leave us any material wealth, she influenced me with her lifelong love and virtue. I think it is more brilliant than the sun and more precious than gold.
Today, I burn incense and write articles, send them to heaven, pour out my gratitude to my mother, and talk about the feeling of loving my mother.
Mom, whenever my children miss you, I remember your rough and kind hand full of the earthy smell of the northern hometown, close your eyes as if it brushed my face, gently wipe away my lonely tears and tell me to be strong; Mom, whenever the child hesitates, I am thinking about what you said. People should be bold when they are in trouble, and be calm when they are ambiguous? , such as the clouds to see the sun, strengthen my faith, wash away my thoughts; Mom, whenever my child succeeds, I will miss the cake you baked. Tell me? Lu Yao knows horsepower, not happy for small achievements? . You use the eyes that have never read a book and the wisdom accumulated by memory to spur me to keep forging ahead and move on!
A mother hurts her child's health, but her child's heart hurts. The concern of a loving mother is the bowl in her hand and the clothes on her body; A loving mother's concern is the city where her child lives, the cigarette in her hand, the spirit poured in her cup, and the joy and sorrow in her heart; The loving mother is worried about the weather and diet in Changsha, afraid that her son will go out without an umbrella and pepper will not be used to it; Mother's concern is the road ahead, shoes on her feet, wind, frost, rain and snow, spring, summer, autumn and winter; The gratitude of a loving mother is every hand that a child extends when he is in trouble, and every cloud that shelters the child from the wind and rain under the scorching sun.
Mom, my dear old mother. I always think of your white hair. I ask the wind to lift it gently, so that I can clearly see your anxious expression; Mom, my dear old mother. Miss you, it will always be your figure standing under the tree. I ask the bright moon to light up your dreams and let you look for your eyes.
Mom, I miss you. I want you to live in Changsha, so that I can wash your hair, rub your back and stir-fry a dish for you. Then, let's prepare a pot of old wine from my hometown, have a drink with my mother and son, and tell you about my experience.
Mother and son miss you and think that you are around. I can chat with you, walk with you and read you every poem and paper I write.
Mother and children miss you very much and want you to see your little granddaughter. Her immature language and charming little eyes will definitely make you smile from ear to ear.
Mother, I have failed, but I never dare to be discouraged; I succeeded, but I will never be proud. I know your request is to be more determined, work harder, share your worries for others and serve the people. You said that only in this way can you be a person, a real man.
Mom, you are the mirror in front of the children, let me move forward in discovering my own shortcomings;
Mom, you are the ladder at the foot of the child, let me climb up step by step;
Mom, you are the whip on the baby's head. How dare I slack off? I must seize the day, lead an honest and clean life, be pragmatic and share weal and woe.
Mom, my dear old mother.
A short essay in memory of my late mother 3: I miss my parents. The unit issued a disciple's code and a notice to encourage employees to learn. I read it carefully several times and felt a lot. But there are two main points, one is the feeling of meeting each other late, and the other is quite? The son should be filial, and the relatives are not there? Regret.
Disciples' Rules, formerly known as Xun, is an enlightenment book for ancient children. I only heard of this book when I was a child, but I didn't read it. Now that I have passed my destiny, I should read the books I should have read when I was a child and receive the education that my children should receive. Of course, a brief encounter. After learning the disciple rules, I learned how to honor my parents according to the requirements of the disciple rules, but my parents are gone. So I wrote an article about my parents to make up for my regret.
My mother was born on 19 18 10/0, and died on July 28th, 1994. My father was born on March 20th of 19 17 and died on August 23rd, 2003. Although my parents have been dead for many years, their kind faces often appear in my mind, and I often see my parents in my dreams.
My parents are ordinary farmers and have no other skills. They face the loess and face the sky all their lives. With hard work, we raised seven brothers and sisters and suffered a lot.
My mother didn't go to school, and my father didn't read much. They have tasted the pain of being uneducated, so they attach great importance to our study. Mother often tells us: You all study hard, and whoever can read will be provided there. No matter how hard and tired you are, you should stick to it. We have lived up to our parents' expectations, studied hard and all have a certain culture. My brother and I both graduated from college.
Both parents are hardworking people. In addition to taking part in the normal work of the production team, I have to go out to dig wild vegetables and fight pig grass after work in spring and summer. Raise pigs to earn some pocket money. In autumn and winter, I will go out to collect firewood after work. In the era of people's communes, farmers were very busy all year round. Always sweating like a pig. But sometimes I still don't have enough to eat and clothes to keep warm. Life is extremely difficult.
Mother is clever. When I was a child, my mother sewed all our clothes and shoes by herself. My mother sewed all my cotton-padded clothes and trousers when I got married, and I still have them. When you see it, you will think of your kind mother, and you will think of poetry? Thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother, making clothes for her wayward son? .
I like Yan Weiwen's "Mother" and Cui Jinghao's "Father", and I often sing loudly with a voice full of five tones to express my nostalgia for my parents.
Is it okay for people whose parents are alive? No matter how far you go, no matter what you are doing. No matter how rich you are, no matter how old you are. ? Everyone should honor their parents in accordance with the requirements of Disciples' Rules so as not to stay? The son should be filial, and the relatives are not there? Regret. ? May parents in the world spend the Spring and Autumn safely? .