20171011Wednesday sunny
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Some people say that there are two kinds of people in this world: one is naturally sophisticated and the other is immature. The former is less and the latter is more.
Take my family as an example, the latter accounts for three quarters. In other words, my family is immature except my mother.
Simon Bois, a famous French writer, once said that what is an adult is a child blown up by age.
In my articles, I have mentioned many times that my father is a grumpy person. This is an undeniable fact, so I won't describe it here. In this article, I mainly want to talk about my brother.
My brother is two years younger than me. Like me, he grew up under the strict and violent feeding of his father, and his father didn't make any difference to him because he was a boy. But maybe it is because he is a boy that he is so hot-blooded and furious. He rejects his father's harshness more than I do, and hates his violence more than I do. He is more rebellious than me, and this rebellious period lasts longer than me.
During that rebellious period, my brother and my father almost became enemies. He no longer calls his father "Dad", but "that man", and there is nothing superfluous to say when we meet at ordinary times.
I found that they are more and more alike, both in character and appearance. Although they don't want to admit it.
When he grew up, his younger brother suddenly became an angry youth. He is dissatisfied with everything in the world and has no plans for his life. He hates that fate is too cruel to him, but he can't change the status quo and can't stand the slightest setback. He often gives up on himself and makes no progress. He is addicted to online games and tired of playing with things. As you can imagine, his life has become a mess. At the same time, he has never really been independent, because all his work is introduced by relatives.
In the worst case, I found it impossible to talk to him. If I want to talk to him, I must be careful not to touch his sensitive and fragile self-esteem. But even so, we are still lovers. He hates anyone's control. He always wants to die.
The saddest thing for my brother is his mother. She often looks at me and feels useless. They are all born by themselves. How can there be such a big difference?
But what you don't know is, mom, my brother and I look the same, but he didn't step on the detour I took; He didn't trip over the potholes where I fell; He didn't touch the iron wall I touched; He hasn't read the books I have read; He has never dabbled in the major I chewed; The sweat I paid, he never flowed; He has never experienced the pain I have tasted. How can he be another me?
In fact, my brother's life was very smooth before he became an adult, because he had a father who liked to control the fate of his children. This is not his fault, but his fault lies in his laziness and depression in this comfortable environment. Just like boiling frogs in warm water, it will only lead to inevitable bad luck in the end.
In the final analysis, the younger brother's current situation is caused by improper or missing parental education methods.
However, the past juvenile problems will grow up one day. There's just always a price to pay.
In March of this year, my father was hospitalized with a stroke. The flustered mother lost her mind for a while, and the younger brother grew up almost overnight. He contracted many things, big and small, to keep vigil for his father every day, to bring him shit and urine, to wipe his body and change his clothes. Talk to him every day, listen to his needs, and the tone is extremely gentle. This has never happened in these years.
At that time, I thought, if my father's illness can be cured, maybe the knot between their father and son for many years will be solved. However, fate is fate, and I won't play a harmless joke with you, making you mistakenly think that the family you didn't cherish still has a chance to make up for it. It will only remind you of this painful lesson with heavy facts.
Finally, my father left. On the day my father was buried, my brother held his father's urn all the way. Although the car shook all the way, he kept hugging his father and couldn't bear to let him get bumped again.
A father-son fight, he saved your life, and you sent him the last journey. From then on, yin and yang are separated, and what is owed in this life can only be returned in the afterlife.
Or maybe they'll never meet again.
Now I often chat with my brother and ask him how he is doing. He will still feel confused, but at least he will open his heart.
Maybe my brother has really grown up. He finally shook hands with the world and learned to live in peace with himself. He understands the hardships of his parents and the rules of the game in this world. He is still ordinary enough to be close to the dust, but the dust has been irradiated by the sun, and he will slowly feel the light and warmth, thus thriving and becoming what he wants to be.