My father

Some memories about my father

My father was a famer who had a few of words. We rarely told together. Sometimes I felt I hated him because he was strict to me. All his life, he never said he love me although I am his only daughter.  I was punished if I told a lie or spoke the back of someone even if I was a little girl who was too young to understand what moralities are. There was a period of time when he went away for earning for living, I was really happy. Because at that time I could do anything I wanted, nobody kept an eye on me. Innocently I said, if my mother had not  been living with me any more, I would be died, but without dad I thought I could live, off course, with my mother.

Time has gone by so quickly, when I was 18 years old. I was happy to leave my family to come here Ho Chi Minh city. However, this feeling didn’t stay long so far. Only one day later, I wanted to return my home. Needless to say, I myself found a way to go my home by myself with my bycicle.  I said to my famiy if my family didn’t go with me, I was not sure I could stay Ho Chi Minh to finish my degree. My father didn’t say anything, he told me could I follow him to go to his fied the following morning.

I was eager to go with my dad. This is the first time he suggested me to work with him in the rice field. He gave me a reaping-hook and said: “Today, we had to cut all of ripe rice in this field, I hope you can help me as much as you can”.

Wearing the hat, I stepped down in the field. As everybody, I  could see cutting branches of rices was easy. I still thought that until I knew what  we see is always like a piece of cake. Over 2 hours at the filed, I couldnot continue doing because I felt tired. My shoulders, my hands and my feet were hurted. I tried to escape the field and I realized that I couldn’t be a famer as good as my father. So I didn’t any path except for learning.

The next day while I was preparing to come back my school, my dad gave me a wooden comb he himself did for me. He still said only a little whereas my mother nonstop recommendations to me when she wrapped some food for me.

I kept the comb in my bag and felt rarely heartwarming. He rarely gave gifts to anyone,  I was surely a special one in his heart. Nevertheless I didn’t use it everyday, just because it was as beautiful as all the combs I bought.

One day, I received a call from my mom, she asked me got home as quickly as possible because my father was ill. When I reached the gate of village, I said hello with my neighbors, but the way they looked at me had something different from other days.  I knew that there was something wrong with my family when I saw the crowded gather at my home. Going through the people I knew what happened to me. All my life, I think it’s difficult for me to forget that day. The day my fathe lied motionless no matter how his family cried for him. The day my father passed away because of a stroke, I feel everything would end. I always wondered myself if we had a chance together one more time, what would my father tell me, what would he advise me. Long long time latter, I still couldn’t accept this reality. After a period time of grieving, I just remembered the comb my father gave me.

On the wooden comb, my father engraved “for my lovely daughter”. Then until now, I have used this comb for brushing my hair everyday. It reminds me of my dad. He doesn’t exist in real world any more, but he is stll alive in my heart