Father

Father's love is as deep and profound as a mountain. He is always there backing us with his strong body while the mountain is rock-firm making us secured in spite of its ineloquent nature. 

My father worked hard and seldom smiled in my memory. Only when I got good academic results or when he drank a lot of alcohol, he became talkative displaying his feelings. As a result, I usually doubt whether he deliberately conceals true feelings pretending to be awe-inspiring in children's eyes. However, my mother doesn't agree and says he is just that kind of person.

My father only gets one hobby in the midst of life: basketball. He played basketball both in the middle school and the army. He worships sportsmanship and simple life, exerting positive influence on us in these two perspectives. Of course, he has his own flaws in character as I realize them when I grow up, but not affecting his honest personality on the whole.

When I was a child, sometimes I thought my father was even a little harsh to my sister and I. For instance, he told us it was ugly when we run to him happily showing the new hairpin; he blocked the door preventing us from going to school unless we finished the breakfast; he blamed us for soileding the washing room after taking a bath. we were very angry with him at that time, but now we see all these just negligible things, even amusing. 

Except these insignificant things, he is a good father to us. Several scenes are still deeply engraved into my mind up to now. 

Scene 1: he carried me on his back on the snowy midnight returning home from my aunt's house. Boots gave out creaking when touching the deep snow and it was like daytime due to the reflection of the snow. We can see no one around in the midnight but the barking of the dog and the groaning of the snow beneath. 

Scene 2: my father rode a bicycle with my sister sitting on the front crossbeam and I sitting on the  back seat heading back home in the small village. It was a long journey without interesting sceneries on both sides to attract me. As a result, I kept dozing on the back seat running the risk of falling down. My father kept unregular and sudden shoutings at me to wake me up. 

Scene 3: my father hailed a taxi to send me to college. Though the college is more than 120 kilometers away from home, he still insisted taking a taxi in order to carry all kinds of articles for daily use for me, no matter how big or small they are, and I knew he just wanted to ensure that his daughter had no worries for future life in the college. 

A few days ago, the old man decided to send me some local food by mail on a whim. He cultivated a farmland planting corns and vegetables and he knew food here in Shanghai expensive and short of the taste of home, so he got the big idea of delivering corns, green beans, melons and sesame leaves by mail in this nearly 40℃ summer. The stubborn man acted first and reported to me afterwards. He and my mother bustled around for the whole morning wrapping different food separately in plastic wraps. But due to the high temperature, the delivery man refused to accept some fruit worrying their deterioration. Finally only part of their elaborately wrapped food were allowed to be mailed and even so, they were forced to sign on the express waywill: protection against loss, not against deterioration.

Today, when I finally received the parcel, the corns and green beans inside became not fresh because of the hot temperature. But I hold the parcel with excitement like holding a father's loving heart. 

Yes, this is my lovely father--the harsh and stubborn old man. As he get older, one physical examination detected his cerebellar atrophy whose symptoms would be memory loss. However, I never believe a father would totally forget his little daughter and I am sure that my father will spend his remaining years in good health and comfort.