每日评论0507 母亲节前的思念

( 图片来源： 路透）

母亲节前的思念

华府的波多马克河依旧静静流淌，而母亲早已长眠於那片柔和的水光之畔。转瞬多年，岁月走远，但她的笑容，她的声音，她温暖的体温，却彷彿还停留在我心中最柔软的角落。每逢五月，母亲节将至，心头便起涟漪，思念像春风一样悄然吹过，又像潮水般，一波一波将我淹没。

母亲的一生，如一盏长明灯，默默照亮我们的路。她从不说伟大，但她的双手缝补了我们的岁月，她的背影撑起了家的天。她為我们兄弟姊妹遮风挡雨，从不求回报。她的爱，如润物细无声的春雨，洒在我们成长的每一寸土地上。

童年的记忆裡，她总是忙碌的身影。清晨厨房裡升起的米香，傍晚黄昏下回家的呼唤，还有夜裡轻轻為我盖被的手。她的爱不是高声说出来的誓言，而是一次次默默的守候，一次次无声的付出。哪怕在病榻之时，她仍笑着说：「别担心我，你们过得好，我就放心了。」

她离去的那一天，天地都变得沉静。从此，这世上再也没有人，会用那样温柔的眼神望着我，用那样坚定的手握住我。在无数孤单的夜裡，我梦见她回来了，还是那件旧毛衣，还是那熟悉的笑。醒来时，泪水早已打湿枕边。

母亲，您可知道，您的离去让世界多了一层寒意，而我，在每个寂静的深夜，都在心裡呼唤您——就像儿时在巷口等您回家的那个黄昏，满眼期盼。

这个母亲节，我将為您献上一束洁白的康乃馨。那不是花，那是我压在心底的思念，是千言万语无法说出的爱。愿风能带去我的呢喃，愿河水轻轻為您奏起安眠的歌。

母亲，我好想您。

In Loving Memory, Before Mother’s Day

The Potomac River in Washington still flows quietly, faithfully, as it always has. And somewhere by its gentle bend, my mother rests in eternal peace. The years have slipped by silently, but the memory of her — her smile, her voice, her tender warmth — remains vivid in the softest corners of my heart.

Each May, as Mother’s Day draws near, the ache of longing begins to stir again. It comes not with thunder, but with the hush of wind rustling through the trees, with the weight of a quiet afternoon. Grief doesn’t always shout — sometimes, it whispers. And in that whisper, I hear her calling my name.

My mother’s love was never loud, but it was vast. She was never one to boast, but her strength held up the sky of our childhood. She gave endlessly — of time, of tenderness, of herself. She never asked for thanks. Her love was in the warm meals before school, the silent watch beside my sickbed, the worn hands that mended clothes late into the night.

Even when she was unwell, she smiled through her pain and said, “As long as you’re all doing well, that’s all I need.” That was her — a heart so large it made room for everyone else before herself.

Since her passing, the world has never quite felt the same. No one else has looked at me with the same depth of understanding, or spoken my name with such grace and care. And in the quiet hours of the night, I still dream of her — the same soft sweater, the same kind eyes. I wake with tears already waiting in my eyes.

Oh Mother, how I miss you.

You may be beyond the reach of my voice, but I speak to you anyway. You may be beyond my touch, but I still reach for you — in memory, in prayer, in love. This Mother’s Day, I will bring you a bouquet of white carnations. Not just flowers, but a symbol of everything I cannot say. Of all the love, all the longing, all the gratitude that still lives within me.

May the wind carry my whisper.
May the river hum you a lullaby.
And may you rest in peace, knowing —
You are forever, endlessly loved.