Essay Remembering the love of parents, love in memories Essay

That warm memory.

I remember someone saying that a mother is like an umbrella - in the cold rain, the daughter brings warmth; The mother is like an umbrella, bringing a touch of coolness to her daughter under the blazing sun. Scold! Mother!

You have brought miracles to your daughter's life, ordinary, selfless, great. Your daughter will always respect you and love you. In the evening, everything is as quiet as ever.

Under the lamp, I inhaled the warmth of the cabin. Behind me, my mother was knitting a sweater, and the room was filled with warmth that only a child could feel.

Occasionally, I look back at the yarn in my mother's hand, and I seem to feel a familiar intimacy.

Mom, teach me how to knit a sweater! "Child, my mother used to knit sweaters to keep out the cold, but now I want you to relieve boredom, and my mother hopes that you will study hard and not be distracted, you know?" ”

That's ......All right! My mother seemed to see my displeasure and asked with a smile, "Son, do you remember how you used to unwrap the yarn?"

Yarn unwrapping! I seem to find that the intimacy with yarn comes from a warm memory from my childhood.

I vaguely remember that it was a cold winter, and the story was caused by an unfinished sweater......

I remember at that time, the bedside quietly placed my mother's sweater that was about to be completed for a few days, I just went to kindergarten, looking at the sleeping mother with wide eyes, but there was no sleep, listening to my mother's small snoring, must be tired, a little guilt suddenly filled my young heart, the only thing I could do for her was to dismantle the unfinished sweater, so that my mother would not have to knit until 12 o'clock every day.

One, two, three ......Yarn sticks fell to the ground, ha! They don't have to pester their mothers anymore.

The yarn was grabbed by me randomly, and the clumps of yarn were scattered on the ground, and then I fell asleep in a daze.

I can't remember how I was pulled up by my mother the next day, but I remember that after I confessed my motive to my mother, my mother hugged me in her arms, along with the wool.

I'll never forget the warmth in my mother's arms.

Later, when I heard my mother say that the sweater was for me to wear, I realized that the wool in my mother's arms contained my mother's warmth and love.

Later, every time I put on the sweater that I finally knitted again, there was always a sweet smile on my face, until later, when I really couldn't wear it anymore, my mother took it off.

Although the sweater is removed, the taste of happiness is still in my heart.

Don't you have parents, your parents are so good to you, don't you have a little affection?

Our youth slowly fades with time, and those youthful love stories drift away with our youth. Yes, I want to go back to the past, I want to be naïve again, I want to be brave again, I want to see if the people in the story are smiling as before, I want to know if we would have missed each other in our lives if we hadn't given up easily, I wondered...

It's just that we can't go back. It's because we don't know how to love, and it's because we don't know how to per Goodbye, but for a lifetime.

It's been ten years, and it's been such a long time since they each other, growing up and being happy in each of the two worlds without any intersection. The former vows are only preserved in memories, and they flow to the softest place in the heart with the years. Occasionally, when I hear that familiar name, I will have a faint sourness, my eyes will wander, and I miss it from anyone.

Our happiness is forgotten in**.

Meeting again is like a world away, remembering the past and our love together. The past is like a time machine slowly going backwards, clearly presented one by one, as if laughter is still in the ears, as if returning to the self who sat quietly under the willow tree, thinking lightly and melancholy. It's as if you see the warm sunlight on that basketball court in the morning, sprinkled on your white face.

As if everything hadn't gone far, it was still yesterday.

I open my scars, and the pain makes you see. You said it would be distressing. I began to regret that I didn't hold back my words, and that I shouldn't have told you.

But only you can talk to me and understand me. I'd love to tell you that I'm doing well and I'm at peace now. Because you're happy, that's fine.

We need to take our responsibilities and stick to our choices. So, if we are unfamiliar, maybe this is the best way for us to get along. I'll remember that you owe me a film pact.