My father

After my mother died, I went to my father's every morning before going to work. He is weak and slow, but he always prepares a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for me and puts it on the kitchen table with an unsigned note: "Here you are." As far as I can remember, my father never said "I love you". When I was a child, I asked my mother, "Why doesn't my father love me?" Mom frowned: "Who said he didn't love you?" "He never said he loved me," I complained. My mother looked at me affectionately: "He didn't tell me either. But, you see, he works so hard, buying us clothes and food and paying our rent. This is your father's way of expressing love, telling us by actions that he loves us and this family. " Then my mother patted me on the shoulder and asked, "Do you understand?" If I realize something, I nod my head. I accepted this statement on the surface, but I haven't accepted it in my heart yet; I still long for my father to hold me tightly in his arms and tell me that he loves me. My father runs a small scrap metal recycling factory. After school, I often wander around his work place, hoping that my father would ask me for help and then praise me, but he never asked me for help. His job is too dangerous for a little boy, and his mother has been worried about his father's job for fear that he will get hurt. Father "feeds" scrap metal into a device by hand, which cuts metal as quickly as a butcher cuts ribs. The equipment looks like a huge pair of scissors, and the blade is thicker than my father's body. If father doesn't put metal in at the right time, he is likely to get hurt. "Why don't you get someone to help you with that job?" One night, my mother asked my father to massage his sore shoulder. Then why don't you hire a chef? "asked the father. I gave my mother a rare smile. Mom stood up straight and put her hands behind her back. "What happened? Ike. Don't you like my cooking? ""of course I like it! But if I can afford a helper, then you should also be able to afford a chef! " Father smiled. For the first time, I think my father still has a sense of humor. The acetylene torch used to cut thick steel plates and columns when my father was working was also dangerous. It hisses louder than a steam locomotive. When it cuts, it always flies out thousands of small pieces of molten metal and surrounds its father like a group of angry fireflies. Father wears thick leather gloves, dark goggles and a wide-brimmed hat. One day, a splash of sparks ignited his socks and came home with blisters on his ankles. Mother coated him with yellow ointment. "Why can't you be more careful, Ike? "Mother asked him lovingly." What do you want me to do？ Will you stand in the water pan and work all day? "Father pretended to be relaxed. They laughed. I don't understand how my father can joke about such a thing. Later, I learned that it is the best way for my father not to worry about my mother. One morning, after praying, my father raised his arm and asked softly, "Lord, can you make my life more comfortable?" "At that moment, my hard-working father looked so fragile, and I really wanted to hug him tightly and protect him. A few years later, I did this every day when I went to see my father. Usually after drinking the orange juice my father prepared for me, I will go over and hug him and say, "I love you, dad." "My father never told me whether he liked my hug or not; There was no expression on his face when I hugged him. One morning, because time was tight, I drank orange juice and went straight to the door. My father came up to me and asked me, "Have you left?" "What can I do for you? "I asked, knowing the meaning of his question." Just leave? "He repeated, crossing his arms and looking around, but not at me. I gave him a big hug. It's time to say what I've wanted to say for a long time. "Dad, I'm 50 years old. You never told me you loved me! "Father walked away from me. He picked up the empty cup, washed it and put it away. " You have told others that you love me, "I said," but I haven't heard you say it yourself. "Father looks very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. I approached him: "Dad, I want you to tell me that you love me." Father stepped back and shut his mouth even tighter. He seems to be talking, just shaking his head. "Go ahead! "I shouted." Yes! I love you! "Father finally said it, and his hands trembled like a wounded bird. At that moment, I saw tears shining in my father's eyes, which I had never seen in my life. I stood in front of my father, speechless with surprise. My father loves me very much and says that this love makes him cry. My mother was right. Every day in my life, my father tells me how much he loves me with his actions. "I see, dad," I said, "I see.