How long has it been since you slept with your father?

While taking care of my father in the hospital, there were nights when I slept in his hospital bed and suddenly wondered: How long has it been since I slept with my father like when I was a child?

Salt and pepper hair, military uniform and cup of green tea are simple, familiar and beautiful images every time I think of my father - Photo: LUONG DINH KHOA

1. Dad's life is full of worries and fatigue. Dad doesn't have long trips, he quietly weaves love in the small kitchen corner with fragrant smoke from banh chung pot, in the small yard fixing bicycles for students passing by who need help.

The clothes my father wore during Tet or when he went out to visit the village were usually just worn-out military uniforms. He felt embarrassed and shy when wearing new clothes. If his children bought them, they would just put them away in a corner, telling them not to buy them again next time, which would be a waste of money.

My generation spent their childhood behind the bamboo fences of the village, with only a small radio and children's music program, and a few old books that we read until they were worn out as friends.

Although my family was not well off, my father was the first person in the village to pay for a quarterly newspaper subscription for me to read. A world opened up with each page of the newspaper, each afternoon waiting for the postman to bring "miracles" to my childhood.

I always remember my father's words: "Books and newspapers are like cool water, purifying the soul, helping people live more honestly and lovingly.

Dad doesn't need you to hold a high position in the future, and you don't need to work hard to earn a lot of money. Dad just hopes that you can become a good person in the right way. Then Dad is satisfied."

In high school, I lived 40km away from home and stayed at a specialized school in the province. On weekends, my father borrowed a motorbike and drove 40km to pick me up.

On the road, the sun cast its shadow on the road. Suddenly I looked down and saw my father's hunched back, and my small back sitting behind. And the whole road, I was silent, thinking about my father's shadow. I realized that in the life of every child, both before and after, there is the shadow of their father following them silently.

2. I will never forget the days when my father suffered from a stomach hemorrhage and was hospitalized for two weeks straight. Every time he pushed the wheelchair to the injection sites, there were areas without elevators, so I had to carry him on my back. I always felt like my father was as fragile as a leaf, and could leave me at any moment.

Before, I used to sleep with my father at night when I was a child. I loved the feeling of burying my head in his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his warmth spread. When I was taking care of my father in the hospital, lying in his sickbed, I suddenly wondered: How long has it been since I slept with my father?

That night, the moonlight outside the window shone in, illuminating my father's silver hair. My father asked softly, "Do you hear anything?" I listened, and all I could hear was crickets chirping and leaves rustling.

My father sighed: "All trees and plants eventually lose their leaves. Just like humans, everyone gets old. I'm old now, I can't carry you on my back like I used to."

Yes, every human being has an old age. Time passes without waiting for people. My father, my mother - and the parents of my peers, of many other children... All are like big trees - providing cool shade throughout each child's life. But, in the flow of time, the wind blows mercilessly, those trees are silently shedding their leaves day by day...

Every day I live means one day less. How many more chances will I have to sleep with my father?

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Source: https://tuoitre.vn/bao-lau-roi-con-chua-ngu-cung-cha-20250323093232702.htm