It seems natural for children to eat the food cooked by their parents. When will parents be able to eat the food cooked by their children? Are we really so busy that we can't even spare a few days? In 365 days, I think we can always squeeze in a few days to spend time with our parents, let them eat some ready-made meals and listen to their chatter. On the first day of my vacation, I went to the grocery store, and the gatekeeper seemed to recognize my parents, and when he saw the wheelchair coming, he opened the door. The wheelchair seemed to be the signature of my parents. Yes, they can't walk far anymore, they can't go to the big square or the big shopping mall, so my mom can only push the wheelchair around the market every day to talk to people she knows and buy some food.

I cooked in the kitchen, and my parents sat in the living room with the TV blaring. Their occasional conversation was to remind each other that it was time to pour water and take medicine. When the food was almost ready, my father stumbled towards the table with the help of his wheelchair, like a child who was anxiously waiting for his meal. The rice was cooked a little softer, the vegetables a little more roasted, and the oil and salt a little less. I don't know if it was really to their liking, but they ate a lot anyway. As they ate, my mother talked and talked about how when they were young, they used to pump water with a water truck in the production team, and they had to work hard to get enough food, and my father interjected from time to time to prove it.

I asked my mom for a common phrase from the past, "lotus flower when". Mom said that it probably meant that someone had a good life, "Boy, he had a good life, oh, his children raised him in the lotus flower pawn". I still don't quite understand, and I'm not sure if this is how the words are written. According to my mother, I think it should refer to the lotus seat, because the throne of Guanyin Bodhisattva is the lotus seat. A friend recommended the song "Wish to be the bodhisattva that lotus", good to listen to, easy on the ears into the heart. The lotus seat belongs to the bodhisattva, "lotus flower when" belongs to ordinary people. Some people say that your parents are your bodhisattvas. I agree: Bodhisattva has so many people to worship, one less than you, one more than you, but children are the only parents.

A week seems too short compared to a year, and the days ahead are more about the mutual companionship of parents. When I returned to Nanjing, my father also came downstairs to see me off. I was only willing to send them downstairs to the curb. I rolled down the window and waved at them. My dad was holding the wheelchair, and my mom was holding my dad close to the side. If I were to give this image a theme, I think "companionship" would be the most appropriate.

It seems natural for children to eat the food cooked by their parents. When will parents be able to eat the food cooked by their children? Are we really so busy that we can't even spare a few days? In 365 days, I think we can always squeeze in a few days to spend time with our parents, let them eat some ready-made meals and listen to their chatter. On the first day of my vacation, I went to the grocery store, and the gatekeeper seemed to recognize my parents, and when he saw the wheelchair coming, he opened the door. The wheelchair seemed to be the signature of my parents. Yes, they can't walk far anymore, they can't go to the big square or the big shopping mall, so my mom can only push the wheelchair around the market every day to talk to people she knows and buy some food.

I cooked in the kitchen, and my parents sat in the living room with the TV blaring. Their occasional conversation was to remind each other that it was time to pour water and take medicine. When the food was almost ready, my father stumbled towards the table with the help of his wheelchair, like a child who was anxiously waiting for his meal. The rice was cooked a little softer, the vegetables a little more roasted, and the oil and salt a little less. I don't know if it was really to their liking, but they ate a lot anyway. As they ate, my mother talked and talked about how when they were young, they used to pump water with a water truck in the production team, and they had to work hard to get enough food, and my father interjected from time to time to prove it.

I asked my mom for a common phrase from the past, "lotus flower when". Mom said that it probably meant that someone had a good life, "Boy, he had a good life, oh, his children raised him in the lotus flower pawn". I still don't quite understand, and I'm not sure if this is how the words are written. According to my mother, I think it should refer to the lotus seat, because the throne of Guanyin Bodhisattva is the lotus seat. A friend recommended the song "Wish to be the bodhisattva that lotus", good to listen to, easy on the ears into the heart. The lotus seat belongs to the bodhisattva, "lotus flower when" belongs to ordinary people. Some people say that your parents are your bodhisattvas. I agree: Bodhisattva has so many people to worship, one less than you, one more than you, but children are the only parents.

A week seems too short compared to a year, and the days ahead are more about the mutual companionship of parents. When I returned to Nanjing, my father also came downstairs to see me off. I was only willing to send them downstairs to the curb. I rolled down the window and waved at them. My dad was holding the wheelchair, and my mom was holding my dad close to the side. If I were to give this image a theme, I think "companionship" would be the most appropriate.