“On the mountain path leading to the chenjiawan, the father doing his last surge of strength, trying together and the old cattle car filled with cow dung on the shelf one way or another hilltop, in order to complete before the spring thaw farming preparations jobs.My mother and sister are there at the end and sides of the car rack, shoulder tightly against the bar and the car stalls dung plate, dead hands Kouzhao frame, soles of the feet such as shovels general, deep drilling to the road.Suddenly, the old cattle fell down, and my father also fell down. The whole world suddenly did not sound.”Mournful sobs I suddenly opened his eyes, full of tears on the pillow cold, everything is so real, as if this is not a dream. Early next morning, I will be eager to tell his mother and wife that dream last night. ”I’m afraid your love of money is spent.”Since my father’s death, whenever I always dreamed that he, my mother always explained. Perhaps the father is really no money to spend, or else he does not give his son asked such a tearful dream.Because self-hit Xinjiang, after the Farms to the native population from across the country consisting of many ancestors left the old rules was to slowly faded.In addition to some of the major festivals, such as Spring Festival, he returned to his old burning paper burning when the Mid-Autumn Festival, usually it is rarely thought of him. This summer back home, was also read a hurry. Lush green weeds that covered the entire mound, Actually, I’m dying of melancholy, but suddenly feel a distant journey between.He wanted, and then to his father’s grave was actually across the three seasons.I am afraid that in the years of baptism, emotions and relationships of this earth to be slowly eroded.So at that time I was thinking, and so selected the day, you should give him a standing monument is.Thus always remind me of this cosmopolitan future generations, a long time, but also to go back with his old talk for a few. Dad short life and the other end is inseparable from the old cattle.In the eyes of my father, and she is our family’s gold lump, like me Jingui. Often think of her, my heart is always full of guilt aside no less than.For years, the share of guilt has been heavy pressure in my heart, and did not flow over time and faded signs. ”The cows were sold.”This is my father before leaving this world to do one last thing, of course, most want to do one thing. She came, it really was not a good time to time, but at home the day too tight, she came from, she became the backbone of our family still remember the first time to meet her father busy like a baby is in at that time I witnessed the extraordinary life of the yard has become a training ground for the moment footprints in the soil is the ring of your life is an aspect of my life rings, arrived in the corner, eating peaches that period of time is like a string swaying notes from time to time, the United States magic, unsurpassed beauty. Like father signed a general contract of life and death, she began to feed the plants are not.A few days, thin skins will no longer hide the bones scattered, like one by one hinge, isolated stands, there is no longer a rich past.Tears accumulation eyes, as if something appeals. Finally, the last, she was gang forcibly pulled out of his house. She widened his eyes, stretched his neck, desperately contend, struggle.Looking back eager eyes, deep roar, in the wake of the father’s eyes almost closed, but a deep tear in my conscience.What can I do? It is eternal life to write a text for her past life, reserved for our family guilt epitaph.