"Go home! Son, mom will bring you a lot of delicious food when she comes back next time. " At that time, I was only 5 years old, and my mother always looked at me with eyes that I still can't understand. I am reluctant, helpless, caring, maybe compassionate, maybe neither.

I stood there, in the left corner of 10 years after one stop, just standing with my head down and my eyes fixed on two small hands that kept moving in front of my lower abdomen, but I still nodded feebly.

My mother carefully adjusted the small hairpin on my forehead and turned away. I finally looked up and tried to catch up, but my feet looked like lead. So, it stopped. Still standing there, watching my mother's back drift away, striding to the right of the mountain not far away.

Mother looked back from time to time and mumbled something ... I stood there as always. "Come on, son, let's go home!" That sound sounds like a dream in my ear. I suddenly looked up, but my mother waved to me at the right corner of the mountain. Finally, smaller and smaller shadows disappeared in that corner.

And I, my heart finally fell from the top, my nose was sour, my eyes were like a faucet that could never be turned off, and I was out of control. The body suddenly limped.

Lilac flowering time.

The sandstorm came violently this spring, but a lilac tree in front of the dormitory blossomed as scheduled. Clusters of fragrant lilacs once again brought my thoughts back to the distant past, reminding me of my mother's smiling face when she was young and the happy time she spent with us. The years are seamless, and the mother and son are affectionate. Now, let me write down this belated lilac yearning with my heart!

My mother is Zhou Guilan, from Wulanhaote, Inner Mongolia. She was only 46 when she left, an age I never dared to recall easily. People say that the mother in children's eyes is beautiful. There are blood relations and emotional factors. But I have to say, my mother is really beautiful, really beautiful. Her tall figure, fair complexion, big eyes and light yellow hair always have a "Yang Yang" charm. She brought up our six children and suffered so much, but she was still slim and her face was white and red. Listening to her hearty laughter and sweet singing, we are really proud of having a beautiful mother!

My mother has a primary school education, has no formal job, and works as a director in a neighborhood Committee. She is ordinary and elegant, and always affectionate. One year, my father got off the bus and brought back two saplings, one is plum blossom and the other is lilac. My mother led our children to plant with a shovel in front of the bungalow, and soon two trees sprouted and blossomed, colorful and brilliant. Mother smoothed her hair and said emotionally, "It is a good sign that our family is planting trees and blossoming. Your father and I both expect your children to have beautiful flowers and a bright future! "

The beautiful mother gave us auspicious wishes and a lilac fairy tale. She has become a lingering clove complex in our lives. I still clearly remember that my mother cheated her leg from the front beam when she was riding a bike. Her best skirt is a wool blue polyester top, and she likes to sing "Girls in Hangzhou have Braids". Her monthly allowance for the director of the neighborhood Committee is June. On payday, she always wraps apricots or jujube cakes with handkerchiefs and watches us eat them, but she can't bear to take a bite. In winter, she never puts out the fire at night for fear that coal smoke will smoke us. Get up at six in the morning to make a fire, bake potatoes under the stove, and fry a flat pot of potato chips in corn oil on the stove. On the way to school, we ate this simple and hot breakfast. As far as I can remember, the most embarrassing thing in my mother's life is the embarrassment of borrowing 10 yuan from her neighbor's house. The happiest moment is my sister and I comforting on the platform of Guandi Temple Primary School. The sweetest food she cooked was the little palm she packed for us.

A poor mother is hard and optimistic. She is rich in spirit. She has never saved any money in her life, and she can't go to Ulanhot's hometown once. But when I got married, I just lent me money to buy a French-made "Mustang" watch. And on the wedding day, I gave me my birth certificate and a yellow calendar card that has been in Zhang Baocun for 26 years. My mother is very enthusiastic and cautious. In the face of this "generous gift", I was surprised and happy. However, my mother is really poor and doesn't even have a valuable item. Her only treasure is an orange plastic interview book on the back window platform, which records the loan account, the monthly expenses of daily necessities and the cooking of eggs on the child's birthday. In this little book, there are lyrics of Embroidered Gold Monument copied by my mother's workers. At the concert in memory of Premier Zhou, my mother changed her shy temperament and sang this song on stage. Her timbre is simple and sincere, singing and tears blend, stirring her inner mystery. Suddenly I feel that my mother is so handsome, sincere, kind and great!

My mother is warm, virtuous, strong and more attractive. She has a stomach ulcer and hemorrhoids, but she never takes a rest at will. Her figure is always in a hurry and her steps are always brisk. How can we forget that she cooks dinner for us on time every day and goes to the hospital to check health and family planning? At night, she sits on the kang, either patting the soles or making cotton-padded clothes. She is really busy and happy. She belongs to us, to society and to everyone. However, fatigue and exercise finally made her ill. It was the end of April 198 1, and I accompanied her to the Inner Mongolia-China Mongolia Hospital. The doctor said that gastrointestinal radiography was needed. The registrar, who is very familiar with me, conveniently used my medical certificate to go through the formalities for her. Unexpectedly, she entered the room with a single ticket and found that it was my public expense. She immediately turned to me and said, "Son, mom is a housewife, not a national cadre. This is cheap, we can't touch it. If you don't have this 5 yuan, mom won't check the disease! " Mother whispered, but there was a serious look in her eyes. I flushed with guilt and went to go through the formalities at my own expense. This episode in the hospital corridor has become an important lesson in my life!

Mother is ill and can't recover. She vomited again and again. She wanted to eat bitter cherries, but there were no cherries in the market in May, and I was in tears. With anxiety and crying, she passed away in the early morning of June 198 1. On the deathbed of her life, she muttered something to herself. One sentence is: "My children should study hard, live a good life and be an upright and promising person." Another sentence is: "The Dragon Boat Festival is coming, and mom is not here. Ask your neighbor Aunt Liu to make zongzi for your mom. Our little green bag is filled with rice." She just left quietly. What is left to us is entrustment, attachment and love. My brother and sister and I changed clothes for her, and only saw five patches on one pair of autumn trousers. These five patches always appear in front of my eyes, filling my heart firmly, making me heartache forever, never unbalanced and never compensated!

The sun and the moon cycle, the past is like smoke, but my mother is a rainbow that never falls in my heart. It has been 20 years since my mother left us. Twenty years is short in the long river of history, but it is long in my life, because I spent it in expectation and concern. For 20 years, I haven't forgotten my mother for a day. I met her in my dream and talked to her in the spring breeze every day. Mother is the protector of our lives, and mother is a lamp in our hearts. She gave us life, hope and learning. She gave so much love, but never enjoyed a day of happiness, nor did she give us a chance to show filial piety. She worked hard all her life, but she never lived in a building with heating, never seen a color TV, never used gas and washing machine, and never ate a cherry when she left. Mom can know that great changes have taken place in society in the past 20 years, and modern material civilization has already entered the lives of the people. All her reluctant children have grown up and become chief reporters, department-level leaders, university professors, pharmacists, public security cadres and lieutenant colonel of the armed police. Even the only grandson she saw went to college in Beijing. However, at the time of family reunion, we always lament the loss of the "pillar" of her family. If the biggest pain in life is where you will go, then regret is the pain in your heart, the silent suffering, which makes people cry all the time and makes people restless all their lives!

Mom must know that I am one year older than when she left, but I will always be her loyal son. Every time the CCTV Spring Festival Evening begins on New Year's Eve, I can't help daydreaming at the snowflakes flying outside the window. I hope she will come back suddenly, wearing a Mao Lan-colored card skirt and a purple wool scarf, sitting among us, calling our long-lost birth name and enjoying family happiness. At that time, I will tell my mother, 1998 I went to Molidawa for an interview in the summer, and I happened to meet cherry at the market in nierji town. Baskets of cherries are crystal clear and as red as pearls. I bought 10 Jin of red cherries from the willow basket of the old lady in Dalu, and went straight to Nenjiang Ferry to sprinkle cherries into the river devoutly. I know my mother is pure and smart, and never says anything superstitious. However, I really hope she didn't eat cherries before she left!

Today, history has turned the page of Spring Festival travel rush. You see, my mother came from Taohe River in Wulanhaote, going deep into the prairie. How familiar and kind her figure is. We saw her staring into the distance. How warm and kind her eyes are. I want to say that how long the grassland road is, how long the mother cares and blesses her children. No matter where my mother goes, in fact, she has never left this house full of maternal love for her children. ...

When the lilacs bloom again, the flowers are overflowing and the colors are charming. Here, mom is a sweet song. Listen, "because of you, our life is meaningful." This is not the poet's romantic motto, it is the echo of children's hearts. With the children whispering, dear mother has come back. Look, isn't she smiling among lilacs? When I am tired of crying, I dry my tears and look at that corner. I always thought, "mom, you should be fine over there." I will wait for you on this side of the mountain and this left corner. "