每日评论0507 母親節前的思念

( 图片来源： 路透）

母親節前的思念

華府的波多馬克河依舊靜靜流淌，而母親早已長眠於那片柔和的水光之畔。轉瞬多年，歲月走遠，但她的笑容，她的聲音，她溫暖的體溫，卻彷彿還停留在我心中最柔軟的角落。每逢五月，母親節將至，心頭便起漣漪，思念像春風一樣悄然吹過，又像潮水般，一波一波將我淹沒。

母親的一生，如一盞長明燈，默默照亮我們的路。她從不說偉大，但她的雙手縫補了我們的歲月，她的背影撐起了家的天。她為我們兄弟姊妹遮風擋雨，從不求回報。她的愛，如潤物細無聲的春雨，灑在我們成長的每一寸土地上。

童年的記憶裡，她總是忙碌的身影。清晨廚房裡升起的米香，傍晚黃昏下回家的呼喚，還有夜裡輕輕為我蓋被的手。她的愛不是高聲說出來的誓言，而是一次次默默的守候，一次次無聲的付出。哪怕在病榻之時，她仍笑著說：「別擔心我，你們過得好，我就放心了。」

她離去的那一天，天地都變得沉靜。從此，這世上再也沒有人，會用那樣溫柔的眼神望著我，用那樣堅定的手握住我。在無數孤單的夜裡，我夢見她回來了，還是那件舊毛衣，還是那熟悉的笑。醒來時，淚水早已打濕枕邊。

母親，您可知道，您的離去讓世界多了一層寒意，而我，在每個寂靜的深夜，都在心裡呼喚您——就像兒時在巷口等您回家的那個黃昏，滿眼期盼。

這個母親節，我將為您獻上一束潔白的康乃馨。那不是花，那是我壓在心底的思念，是千言萬語無法說出的愛。願風能帶去我的呢喃，願河水輕輕為您奏起安眠的歌。

母親，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.