I moved into a new home again. The relocation ceremony was held last Sunday. Early in the morning, my mother, who was over 70 years old, came from her hometown in the countryside. Waiting at the gate of the community, I saw a familiar and unfamiliar scene: my mother was carrying a polished old Sang Mu pole on her shoulder, and two heavy bamboo baskets were hung at each end, which were filled with steamed bread, knife meat, swordfish, candles, firecrackers, incense and other items. Everything is prepared according to the traditional custom of moving in the countryside, even I grew up from small to large. However, the moment I took the burden from my mother's shoulder, I suddenly found that I don't know when her white hair was much denser and her wrinkles were much deeper.

Perhaps it is the trouble of preparing for the ceremony, or it may be the fatigue of bumping all the way. There is a trace of fatigue in mom's smile. The dew on her trouser legs, the dust on the vamp and the wheezing in her chest all seem to tell me that it is more and more difficult for her to enter the city with her age. Thought of here, a strong sense of self-blame welled up in my mind. How hard my mother worked to celebrate my new home! What kind of selfless, eager and warm heart does that heavy burden contain?

Actually, it's not just this time to congratulate me. Mother's hard work runs through every move. I bought a house three times in recent years. Every time I decorate, I face the same problem: my wife and I are busy with work, and we often have no time to take care of the complicated things in the decoration process. But every time, my mother offered to say, I'll take care of you! Therefore, every time the decoration site, there will be a "omnipotent" grandmother: she cooks for workers, brings tea and water, and buys snacks; Unloading and transporting decoration materials, she looks after and even participates in handling; When she needs to add small items, she goes to the nearby store to buy them. Some workers play tricks, and she either hits the nail on the head or points out implicitly ... The workers can't help joking: Grandma Sun, you are both a waiter and a supervisor!

With my mother's whole cooking, every decoration is very smooth, the workers feel warm and the quality of the project is reassuring. My wife and I have no worries about our work, and we are hardly distracted by the renovation. However, every time I finish decorating, my mother will lose weight. After returning to her hometown, she often has to rest for more than half a month to recover. During this time of consumption and recovery, my mother's wrinkles deepened, her white hair became denser, her back bent badly and she faltered.

When I just renovated my new house, I was still working in a remote market town. Entering the woodworking link, because the carpenters in their hometown were invited, their meals became a problem. There were no lunch boxes or anything like that at that time. Therefore, my mother volunteered to take on the role of "cook". Because the food market is far from the new house, my mother has to get up before dawn every day and go out to buy food in the biting cold wind. When you go home with a big basket full of things, you are often so tired that sweat oozes from your forehead. A few days later, my mother caught a cold and had a bad cold, but she managed to bring delicious food to the carpenter. When the masters finished eating, my mother was free and grabbed a few cold dishes in a hurry.

A few years later, I transferred to work in the city. Soon, I bought a new house. Mom is still busy at the decoration site all day, just like last time. After the painter came into the scene, my wife and I advised her not to stay at the decoration site and go back to her hometown to rest first. But my mother said, master is so hard, how can no one bring tea and water? Only by taking good care of them can we ensure the quality of decoration. In this way, the mother who is allergic to paint is busy wearing a mask every day and insists on "retreating" until the painting work is all over.

What saddens me most is the recent renovation. On that day, the workers in the sand yard carried the sand away, but only piled it downstairs. They have to pay an extra handling fee to transport it to the sixth floor. After some bargaining, I'm going to ask a porter to deliver it at a price close to 200 yuan. After the mother knew it, she repeatedly said, "It's too expensive, so I'd better ship it myself." . My mother ordered me to find a small trailer and a basket bucket. My mother and son worked hard for a long time and finally carried the sand upstairs. When the last basket of sand fell to the ground, mother was so tired that she collapsed on the chair.

"Congratulations on moving!" My mother's excited voice is like a long line, which pulls my thoughts back from my memories. With the curl of smoke, firecrackers, candlelight, my mother's blessing overflowed my heart.

Some people say: when I was a child, where was my mother, where was my home; When you are old, your home will be where your children are. Mom, although she has never lived with us, I know that she has an endless home in her heart. My new house will always be her most concerned "heart".