As we grow up and start our own families, we spend less and less time with our parents. Caught up in our careers and families, we sometimes forget to call them. But every time that happens, my mother calls to check in, just to ease her worried heart.

I remember back when I was in school, my world was just home and school. I longed for some free time to hang out with friends during holidays, like everyone else. But my mother never allowed it. She always wanted me by her side, finding my freedom annoying.

It wasn’t until I graduated from college and got a job that my parents stopped restricting me. They encouraged me to go out and play with the neighbors. Perhaps at that moment, my mother saw me as an adult who didn’t need constant reminders.

But strangely, I didn’t crave that freedom. I just wanted to be by my mother’s side. Even when neighbors invited me to play cards, I refused. All I wanted was to be with my mother, talking, picking vegetables in the garden, and looking at the crops in the fields.

To me, that was true happiness. It brought a sense of peace and contentment to my heart.

I believe only when you appear before your mother safe and happy, does her worried heart find a moment of peace.

We used to live on a mountain. Before there were roads, it took a two-hour walk from the mountain to the town. If you told my mom what time you were coming home, she would be in town early in the morning to pick you up and take you home.

As you waited, watching one or two cars stop and then drive away, her anticipation and disappointment fluctuated with the crowd until she caught sight of you, and the weight on her heart lifted.

From the moment you were conceived in her body, you became the person my mother worried about the most. When you were young, she feared you getting hurt, going hungry, or feeling cold. As you went to school, she feared you being bullied or not doing well academically. She wanted you to have a good job in the future, to avoid hardships like she experienced. So she constantly nagged you about your homework.

Even if she couldn’t read, she would sit with you while you did your homework, staying by your side no matter how late, until you finished.

She didn’t know much about big theories. She would ask you to help her with things while you did your homework, finding excuses to keep you awake. She never scolded you for not taking a nap at noon but couldn’t resist staying up when you were working late at night.

She always wanted to save face for you, to maintain a pleasant relationship, and never embarrass you.

She wasn’t very forgiving, but she always taught you to greet your elders, even if you had just argued with them. She wanted you to forget the hatred and fill your heart with joy.

Having children of my own now, I understand my mother’s feelings even more. What I love the most is taking my kids back to our hometown, being together as a family. It’s so wonderful.

But with joy comes sorrow. If there are older siblings and sisters-in-law at home, there’s a certain feeling. When you get married, they fear you coming back to claim a share of the family property, thinking that everything you do for the family is just for the inheritance from your parents. As a daughter, this feeling is hard to bear.

When you go back to the place where you grew up, you have to consider others’ feelings. What kind of feeling is that?

Going home is just to spend more time with your parents, to improve their lives a bit. They have saved their whole lives, hoping that when you are capable, you can enhance their lives.

Now, while your parents are still around, enjoy the time with them. Because when the day comes that they are no longer here, that home won’t feel like home anymore. A home without parents only becomes a distant hometown.

Even if you want to go back someday, what awaits you won’t be warm greetings, but a grave covered in weeds.

As children, cherish the time spent with your parents as adults. Because one day, they might suddenly leave you, before you have a chance to fulfill your duty or savor the warmth of their love.

In their presence, you neglect your filial duties; in their absence, you sever your roots and become a drifting duckweed, no longer burdened by any ties.

A hometown without parents is distant, a home without parents is empty, a life without parents is wandering. Without parents, your ambitions fall on deaf ears, no one to cheer you on. Without parents, no matter how much money you earn, you lack someone to share it with. Without parents, no matter how great your achievements, you lack loyal fans.

You may think you’re striving in this life for the next generation, but when you stop, you realize the lack of purpose in your growth.

With parents, you dare not grow old because with them around, you never feel old. Without parents, time seems to fly by, and before you know it, you’ve aged. The ones who shielded you from the harsh winds are no longer there, and you’re left to be pushed by reality, lost like sand in the wind, unable to find your way back home.