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To be loved is to be happy

I wish I could be like my sister

  When I was young, I was a very low self-esteem child. My parents gave birth to me when I was in their thirties. My father was a teacher, and influenced by the idea of ​​”prenatal and postnatal care”, he felt that having one child was enough. After having a sister that year, he expressed that he did not want to have a second one. But the mother likes children, she thinks a child is too lonely and should have a company. So it was with her insistence that I became me.
  I could clearly feel that my father didn’t love me that much. Since childhood, my smart sister was my father’s treasure. Delicious snacks and beautiful clothes belong to my sister, and I can only choose what my sister has left. If my sister and I make mistakes at the same time, it must be me who gets scolded, and my sister is always fine. In order to make my father like me as much as I like my sister, I have been trying my best to be a sensible child and try my best to please my father.
  When my sister graduated from elementary school, she was admitted to the city’s key middle school with little effort. The father was so happy that he immediately spent a lot of money to buy a Shanghai brand watch as a reward to his sister.
  Not long after my sister entered the school, a random composition was published in the school newspaper. My father was so happy that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Watching him rubbing the rough mimeograph over and over again, my heart was filled with envy and admiration for my sister. My only ideal at that time was to be like my sister, to be admitted to the city’s key middle schools, and to have my articles appear in the newspapers.
  Maybe I’m really unlucky. My academic performance has always been in the top three of the class, but I encountered a “waterloo” in the test of junior high school, and the score can only enter an ordinary middle school. For this, I lay in bed crying for two whole days. After crying, I wiped my tears and swore to myself that even if the first goal was not achieved, I would achieve my second goal.
  In order to achieve the second goal, I spent nearly ten years. One summer evening, as usual, when I picked up the city’s most influential evening newspaper and flipped through it, I inadvertently saw my name and article in the supplement. At that moment, my biggest wish was to get a word of affirmation and praise from my father. This is a newspaper with a circulation of over one million. However, when I excitedly put the newspaper in my father’s hand, he just glanced through it in a hurry, and then said lightly: “That’s because your sister doesn’t want to write. If she really starts to write, she will definitely write better than you. Much better.”
  My eyes suddenly turned red. In order not to let my father see the tears in my eyes, I quickly turned my head, and the grievances in my heart could not be dissipated for a long time. At that moment, I suddenly realized that parents are not all great. They also have selfishness and preferences. No matter how hard other children try, it may not change this fact.
  But I didn’t stop the pen in my hand. On the one hand, so many years of hard work made me really fall in love with writing, on the other hand, I also want to be a better version of myself. Even if my father doesn’t like me, I still have to like myself.
When I got married, my father secretly wept

  As time passed, I published more and more articles in magazines and newspapers. Many familiar people began to call me a little talented girl, and they believed that my writing must have been influenced by my father, who was a Chinese teacher. Every time I hear such a comment, I just smile lightly.
  That year, my father was hospitalized for stomach bleeding, my sister was married, and my mother had to work overtime because of the nature of her job, so she couldn’t go to the hospital to take care of her father every day. So, I took the initiative to provoke the responsibility of taking care of my father. Every day, I rush to the hospital after work to accompany my father to have a sling shot and wash him. But I didn’t communicate much with my father. One of the father and daughter read books, the other read newspapers, and hardly spoke much. The uncle next door and his daughter laughed and joked every day, and it was as lively as talking about cross talk. Although I look calm on the surface, I really envy them, especially his daughter, how lucky it is to have such a father!
  After my father’s treatment for a few days, the doctor said that I can eat liquid food. So I excitedly cooked porridge at home and took it to the hospital. Who knows, my father opened the heat preservation bucket, took a sip, and shook his head: “How do you drink such thick porridge? Do you want me to bleed again?”
  My face turned red. Fortunately, my uncle’s daughter next door told me: “There is a small shop two stops away from the hospital that sells porridge. Their porridge is well cooked and the consistency is just right.” Rush outside. Twenty minutes later, I ran back to the hospital out of breath, and my father asked in surprise, “Why did you come back so soon?” In order to save time waiting for the bus, I ran all the way back and forth, just because I was afraid he was hungry and wanted him to drink porridge earlier.
  Father saw that I was silent, and silently picked up the spoon. I watched him drink slowly one sip after another, and then my heart dropped a little.
  Three years later, I also got married like my sister. The next day after the wedding, I went back to my parents’ house with my husband. My mother told me quietly behind my father’s back that after the banquet was over last night, my father was in tears. He said to his mother, “My daughter will not be at home in the future.” I was stunned for a moment, a little disbelieving: “He will cry for me too?”
  Mother sighed and shook her head: “Actually, your father likes you very much. If you don’t believe me, look!” Mother took out two thick hard-sided notebooks from the bookcase. I opened it and saw that it was filled with articles I had published in the journal. My heart suddenly moved, and my eyes were instantly moist.
belated love is also happy

  Since then, my father and I have reconciled. Although I still can’t be as close to my father as other daughters, pulling my arms and acting like a spoiled child, I have been able to play some simple jokes with him, and I will also chat with him and talk about what I have encountered at work. It’s a bad thing, tell the troubles in the run-in with the in-laws and relatives. My father always listened patiently, then enlightened me in a gentle tone, and gave me some advice at the right time. Only then did I realize that my father was not as cold as I thought.
  One Spring Festival, when I went back to my mother’s house for dinner, I found that there were some oil dates in the fruit bowl for snacks. I couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised. This is my favorite snack when I was a child, but now that living conditions are better, and the types of snacks are becoming more and more abundant, these old objects have also withdrawn from the mainstream dining table, and they are hard to find.
  Seeing that I had grabbed a large handful of jujubes in my hand, my father said with a smile, “I knew you liked it so much, so I would have bought more.” Only then did I know that it turned out that when my father was shopping for New Year’s goods, Stumbled across this “old antique” in a small supermarket. “It’s okay, that’s enough.” I waved my hand.
  But I didn’t expect that when I went back to my parents’ house in a few days, my father took out a big bag full of jujube oil and handed it to me: “You can take this home to eat.” I was about to refuse when my mother said: “Just take it. Last time you said you like to eat, your dad has been thinking about it. I heard that you were coming back yesterday, so I went to buy it on purpose. I was afraid that it would be too early and not fresh.” My eyes became hot and I nodded quickly. : “I want it, I want it.” I thought that my father and I would spend a long time together in the future, but no one thought that my father had a malignant tumor.
  In the last few years, my father has been on the way to seek medical treatment. I stayed by his bedside until the last week of his life.
  Those days, my father had been in a coma. Occasionally sober, he said to me, “My child, Dad was sorry for you before.” I knew that he was apologizing to me for his neglect and neglect of me since childhood. Just like what my mother said: “Your dad looks gentle on the surface, but he is actually very stubborn. He didn’t like you before, but the longer he spends with you, the more he finds out about you and says that you Sensible, filial, hardworking, and motivated. Although he doesn’t say it, he regrets that he was not good enough to you before.” But even such a stubborn father still expressed his apology to me in the last moments of his life.
  Actually, I don’t need his apology at all. Because, he has already let me know his love for me with practical actions. Although this love came a little late. But to be loved is to be happy.