\”The Foot of Time\”
Mother When I pressed my waist to measure my daughter\’s height, I saw the lookout feet. The scale line drawn on the door frame climbed up crookedly, and the seventh line stopped at the corner of the mother\’s horn, where there were a few white hairs that had not been hidden. When she got up, she held her waist and felt like her grandmother was 20 years ago. At that time, I always thought the old man was rude and now I see the same weight on my mother.
Presential flower lens became a new organ for the father. Last year, he was able to read papers with a magnifying lens, and now he had to identify the small words on the drug box under the lamp. In the mirror, I saw the shadows of myself riding on his shoulders when I was young. Those light green petals fell in the darkness of my father, like a gentle snow falling. Now his white hair no longer needs locust flowers to suck, and the old months have already dyed him into a deep winter.
The darkest part of the cabinet is a matt yellow dress, which is the dress of the daughter on her third birthday. In the smell of camphor pills that shook off when they opened, she suddenly became alive in the way of dancing \”Little Star\” on the kindergarten stage in this dress. At that time, I felt that the wide skirt was now like a handkerchief, and the little man who was about to fall when he turned around was able to tiptoe to the top of the bookcase.
Time is always so cunning. It hides the amazing passage in the heat of the teacup, in the silver silk with the increasing number of keychains, and hides it in the children\’s shoe codes to change. We squat down and stand again gap. It was not until one morning when I saw a subtle ghosting of the human and old photos in the mirror that I was amazed that the old river had already flowed over my ankles.
We all age in the folds of time, but those moments that are soaked by love will always be young in the memory.
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