大家都在回忆，我现在越来越懒，记起多年前随手用英文

写了对父母的一点回忆，贴出来，寄托对远方父母的思念。

刚才怎么也打不通给父亲问好的电话，以此寄慰。很cheap

但是心意。

Mom and Dad 
 
It is very strange that I do not have too much memory related to
Mom about my early childhood. The relationship between two of us
was getting stronger and more delightful when I grew up in Shandong.
I remember I could always make her laugh by mimicing the accent of
native residents even when she was angry about something. Using the
same trick, I could easily make a serious looking Mom turned to the
opposite mood, which some time saved me a lot. But I never did it to
Dad.

Things went wrong after I told Mom I had a girl friend and wanted to
marry her. I remember that happened one night after I went back home
from college for vacation and told her my decision. She cried right
after. I think it was not the case that she did not like the girl
because she had not even got chance to meet the girl. Mom was unhappy
because she felt I disrespected her by not telling her before I made
decision. Staying away from home for so long, I learned not to count
on anybody but myself to make decisions for my life. It became so
natural and I was used to it. 
 
I did not have many toys when I was a kid. But somehow I insisted to
sell a small bike for a reason that I do not remember. A photo was
taken right before we sold the bike and I was riding on it. This
photo carried the memory non-stop.

I remember I always held Dad's ears before sleep in the night when
I was little.  The memory can still easily wet my eyes even now.
Those days Mom was on the road unvolunteerly because of the Culture
Revolution.

All the memories that left in my mind about my early childhood related
to Dad were pleasant, at least before we left Beijing to Shandong.
I have no, not even a little bit, memory that Dad ever yelled at me,
not even mention bit me up like most fathers often did to their children.

I still remember Dad gave me a ride on his bike, "Yong Jou," every time
he brought me home from day care center in Beijing. One of the fantasy
for me was Dad took me on a wild ride downwards from the big slope
in front the main building of the college where he worked. Dad told me
later that he was young and did not feel too much struggling to ride
the bike up before slided down.

The relationship between my Dad and myself seemed changed when I grew up.
I guess I was getting troublesome, not because I had a younger sister
later on. I am a father now and I could rationally understand it. Mom
told me that it was mainly because Dad was extremely disappointed from
the work and political relationship with others due to the Culture
Revolution. It was funny that everybody was hurted in that movement.