Father is a quiet man, only know the maximum work, sometimes in the outside work only go home once a month or two, come back and seldom talk to me. 

Father looks simple, never pay attention to wear, even as the son I feel a bit shabby. 

Close to mother say daughter close to her father, son, I also is same. Occupy only since childhood and his mother said, there is always a layer with his father, and mother to me is better. 

With the change of time, I was growing up, work, also seems to be the father's feeling changed. 

Remember last year I had just returned from a trip, got a call from the huaibei a unit, let me go to work there, because all aspects of treatment is very high, I really want to. The day before I decided to go, my mother began to her usual nagging, thousand ding million told, worry I a person in the outside, cold, and afraid of being tricked into a pyramid scheme. 

Father aside just silently smoking a cigarette, what seems to be pondering, ages asked 1: "enough money?" I replied: "enough." After a while his father asked again: "mobile phone there could make sense?" I said: "of course, roaming the country." 

I just lay down that night, father walked into the room to me one thousand bucks, said: "you take money, always afraid of what difficulties in the outside, take some of it's always good, to call back immediately, mobile phones must be kept free of traffic." 

The next day my father sent me to the town, I'm on the road to the north drift. Took more than ten hours finally arrived in huaibei, I haven't come to my family and at peace, father's phone has been called, know I arrived safely this just hang up the phone. 

I know this time out of town, father than anybody else, than who are nervous, after all, this is my first time to leave north. 

After just a few days, I again when I come home from huaibei caught a cold, I ate medicine go to bed early that night, I woke up at midnight, found that his father was lying on the sofa. 

Father huddled in there, just take the fire was half fell to the ground, his hands tightly holding the chest piping only. Temples of white hair and didn't shave beard makes his father seem a bit old. 

It was getting light, out of the window the faint branches gradually clear, merciless cold wind hit the leaves swoosh. 

Father shuddering, opened its eyes looked at me said: "my fever is gone." I choked: "better." Father came up with those as rough as sandpaper hand touched my forehead, said: "well, the fever is gone, and then the rest should be okay." Looked at his father's face after the vicissitudes of wrinkles and no longer tall and straight figure, the tears welled up in my eyes, heart can not calm. 

Remember mother always said when I was a little boy, as long as a hot old like to kick a quilt, every time are kept in the bed and sick father was young and didn't feel anything. 

Over the years his father still so, now I have more than 20 years old, had to take care of yourself, but in the father's eyes, I will always be the children grow up. 

Father does not change, father's love for me is like a spring breeze, the silent like rain, like a silkworm spinning of selflessness, strong like a mountain, and like the tea, ethylene glycol, but I don't know the young a firm and great father. 

Father's love, is real, no gorgeous words, no intimacy. Father's love, is a heavy, not direct expression, sometimes thought is in the punishment. India deepest, can be a father in my heart: the longest time, feeling the most astringent, benefit most. It is a high mountain, do children forever, in the shadow of mount.