Mother told me the sound of the ocean

My father died on a trip to the sea when I was just seven years old, and my youngest son was still in my arms. My memory of that great pain was reduced to the thin figure of my mother, helplessly falling before the sea. That was also the rare time I saw my mother cry, because as soon as she saw me looking at her with pain, she quickly wiped her tears and opened her arms to welcome me, running into her arms. Since then, my mother's image has grown in my subconscious, because she is the pillar of the family. When I grew up a little, I woke up early to follow my mother to the port to buy fish from fishing boats, then helped my mother load the fish onto the cart to sell at the market. Occasionally, I still hear many people sympathizing with my mother:

- Poor thing, her husband died at such a young age. He died at sea but now she still has to rely on the sea to make a living. She has no right to hate him.

Such is the cruelty of life at sea. The sea is both a source of life and a place to hide pain. Whenever I have free time, usually in the evening, when my mother is cleaning up the things to sell at the market and I have just finished school, my mother and I go to the port just to sit and watch the sunset slowly fall. The strong fishy smell of fish still permeates the smell of my mother's sweat, making me feel a reality that is completely different from what people often say about the romance when facing the sea. However, to me, it is still a familiar, loving smell. I cherish every strand of my mother's hair tangled in the sea breeze, for the days when my hair grows long and shiny. In the sea breeze, I often hear my mother say:

- Whenever I miss my parents, I often look at the sea and feel like the sound of the sea has my father's voice in it.

Every time I heard my mother say that, I cried. She wanted me to understand that the sea did not bring sadness and hoped that I would know that even though my father had passed away, somehow he would always be in her and our hearts. No matter what, my mother and my two sisters had to live well because my father would definitely "know", he would definitely "watch over". Perhaps that was why I grew up with the habit of confiding in the sea. Whenever I was sad, missed my father or wanted to show off something, I would go to the sea. Because I knew that every time I told a story, the waves lapped as if they were answering me, and in the sound of the sea, I felt like my father was also responding, saying he was listening.

When I grew up a little more, my grandmother told me about a time when my father passed away, a man who loved my mother and wanted to take care of her and my sisters. However, my mother only loved my father so she refused. That man still patiently waited. When I entered my senior year of high school, my grandparents passed away one by one, and my mother became the eldest in a family of five siblings. Even though my uncles and aunts got married one by one, my mother was still the pillar for my siblings to rely on when they were in trouble.

- Mom, why don't you remarry? Both my brother and I want you to have someone to lean on. You've shouldered enough.

After much thought, I finally mustered up the courage to tell my mother that, because I saw that she had been a support for many people, but had never allowed herself to rely on anyone. When she heard me say that, my mother took me to the sea and in a teasing tone, she looked towards the sea and softly said:

- Oh sea, my daughter wants me to get married. If you agree, then answer me, I will definitely listen to you.

And of course the sea could not answer. What came back was only the sound of the wind, the strong smell of the sea, the sparkling stars reflected on the sea and the small figure of my mother.

- You cheated so much, the sea cannot answer you.

- The sea does not answer, it means no agreement, but I understand the sea's language.

After that, I never mentioned it again, because I understood that once my mother made a decision, no one could change it. When I entered university, life gradually became more stable, my mother also saved some money, raised chickens, grew vegetables, paid for living expenses and had money for me to study at university far from home. When I graduated and started receiving my first salary, I heard that my younger brother decided to follow the seafaring career like my father. I immediately arranged everything to go home to see him. All the way home, the pain and fear that were still imprinted in my childhood memories kept coming back.

- Mom didn't stop me, because for me, fishing has been my dream since I was a child.

I was surprised when my mother did not stop my brother, but looking at her red eyes filled with the sunset, I suddenly understood that no matter what, my mother still respected all of her son's choices. My brother grew up with stories my mother told about my father's bravery and also wanted to maintain the lifestyle of the place where young people, when they were old enough, still followed their fathers to sea. The day my brother boarded the boat for the first time, both my mother and I saw him off:

- I heard the sea say very clearly that the sea will always protect my son.

For my mother, in life, we don't always encounter repeated pain, nor do we necessarily have better choices when we avoid it. I work in the city, and when I have free time, I go back to my hometown to visit my mother. My mother stays at home with my younger brother when he doesn't go to sea, and is lonely the rest of the time. Life in the city is also full of worries and the office is not peaceful. There are times when I am too tired, I ask for leave to go back to the beach, sit quietly and listen to the sound of the ocean. I am no longer a little girl who can tell everything as if I were confiding in my father, maturity makes me silent.

- Tell me, now I will be your ocean.

It seemed like my mother always knew when something was wrong with me, even if I tried to hide it. She told me:

- Just live as yourself, without harming anyone. If you live according to other people's opinions, it will never be enough for them, and you will also be tired of not being able to be yourself.

***

I pushed my mother in a wheelchair to see the sea when she had just recovered from surgery. In this area, the cool sea breeze did not blow the strong fishy smell and sweat soaked in the fate of making a living. It was still the sea, but from each different perspective, it brought a very different mood. I have grown up and also realized that as I grow up, the pain will also become smaller. Time has the power to make me feel that the things, the things that hurt me in the past, no matter how big, will suddenly fade away, even be forgotten. What is important is the reality and how I prepare for the future. Luckily, I still have my mother and my sister.

- Whether life is good or not depends on how we choose to face it. The way my mother chose was to be grateful to the sea for bringing abundance to her life - my mother softly told me.

Strangely, I suddenly felt myself shrink to the size of a child. Holding my mother's hand, I was still being guided and taught by her every step, every way to face life and even how to listen to the sound of the ocean.

Short story: LE HUA HUYEN TRAN

Source: https://baocantho.com.vn/me-ke-con-nghe-tieng-cua-bien-khoi-a185617.html