Microblogs to Loved Ones

By Wang Xiaorui

Below is a collection of loving microblogs online.

@ Dad: When I got home this time, Mom praised you a lot—saying that you quit smoking and seldom drink wine now. You even developed a habit of walking every morning and evening. When you feel unwell, you go to see a doctor in time, paying special attention to your own health. I asked why you have changed, and you replied, “I had a dream that you were crying bitterly and feeling lonely without me one day.” My loving daddy, your words triggered my tears. You know such things are more meaningful than just an “I love you.”

@ Mom: One day I heard a woman calling out in the supermarket, “Mom, do dumplings need yeast?” At that moment I suddenly missed you so much. I think of you whenever I meet troubles, from doing laundry to childbirth and raising. If there is a phone number for me to dial out to report my trivial life and happy moments, it must be yours. Yesterday, I made a wish, “Mother is a beauty, so I wish to keep her beauty alive.” I promised myself.

@ Elder Sis: It's your daughter who made you angry, but you scolded me as well: “It is only you two in the world who make me worried, concerned, and troubled.” The more you talked, the more excited you got, until you burst into tears. I winced at the moment I heard this, but my heart was overflowing with boundless warmth. I know you're concerned about me, but I don't know how deep your love is. Sis, did I tell you how warm and comfortable this “only” is?

@ Younger Sis: You invited me to go to Tibet next year and to Cambodia the following year. You said, “Sis, when you are old, you can knock on your dentures with mine and touch your walking stick with mine to see which one is tougher.” Life with you is always so full and simple. But today, you make me cry. You said, “Sis, I make so many wishes and appointments with you for the future, because I'm afraid of losing you.” Time will put us on tenterhooks, but I believe our future will always be warm.

@ Hubby: On that snowy day, we intentionally went to a remote station to catch a bus so that we could have more time to appreciate the falling snow along the way. How I wished it could be colder, and freeze everything you said into small particles, so that I could collect them one by one, take them home and keep them hidden away. When I miss you, I can take one out, put it in my hand to heat it up, listen to your voice, turn it into water, and then refreeze it. I will listen to it again and again until I stop worrying about you. This love letter is for you on a business trip.

@ Son: When I was aching all over, I went outdoors for a massage. You, like a loyal tag along followed into the massage room, turning me upset and dizzy. I asked you to move to the outside hall several times, but you stubbornly refused to budge an inch. In the evening, you ordered me to lie prone on the bed, massaged my back presentably, and said, “Try this massage master. My skills were learned especially for you.” At this time, I forgot my pain, and was thankful for the aches.

@ Daughter: I tend to attribute some people and things to love and affection in a previous life—there are always so many likes, so much readiness, and willingness unexplainable. For many mysteries, I can only say that in prelife we had been together in the name of love or family bonds—either I loved you for a lifetime, or you loved me for a lifetime. On the morning you left, when you thought I was asleep, you stroked my hair gently. In fact, I just pretended to close my eyes tightly, feeling your reluctance to leave me.

(From Modern Women, June 2012. Translation: Qing Run)

暖人微家書

文/王小蕊

@老爸：這次回家，老媽狠狠地表揚了你，說你已經(jīng)戒煙，也很少喝酒了，每天早晚還出去遛彎兒，有不舒服就及時去醫(yī)院，特別注意身體。我問你為什么改變這么大，你說：“我有一天做夢，夢到?jīng)]有了我，你哭得一塌糊涂，我怕沒有我你會很孤單。”臭老爸，你讓我的眼淚猝不及防，你知道，這比“我愛你”深沉得多。

@老媽：聽到一個女人在超市里打電話說：“媽媽，包餃子要放酵母嗎？”那一刻，我忽然特別想你。小到洗衣，大到生子，碰到難題，一定會想到你。如果有一串號碼，撥出去，就撥向了瑣碎的生活、安穩(wěn)的幸福，那號碼一定是你的。昨天，我向時光許了愿：“媽媽是個美人，歲月你別傷害她。”它答應我會慢慢走。

@老姐：明明你女兒惹你生氣，你卻連帶著我一起教訓：“唯獨你倆讓我操心，讓我掛念，讓我想起來就煩。”你越說越激動，直到哭得稀里嘩啦。被教訓的我擠眉弄眼，心里卻是漫天漫地的溫暖。我知道你掛念我，卻不知道你的愛是如此厚重。姐，我有沒有告訴你，這種“唯獨”讓人心里多暖多舒服？

@老妹：你約我明年去西藏，后年去柬埔寨。你說：“姐，老了可以用我的假牙敲敲你的假牙，用我的拐棍碰碰你的拐棍，看看誰的更結實。”有你相伴的生活，總是如此充盈而單純。可今天，你卻惹我流了淚。你說：“姐，我和你許愿那么多未來，約定那么多事情，是因為怕意外把我們分開。”時世惶惶，但我相信未來會總是溫暖。

@老公：那個下雪天，我們特意走去很遠的車站坐車，為的是可以在路上多看一會兒雪。我多想天再冷一些，把你說的話都凍成小顆粒，我一顆顆收集起來，帶回家放進冰箱里，想你的時候，就拿出一顆放在手心里焐熱，聽聽你的聲音，化成水后再放回冰箱，可以一遍遍聽下去，直到不掛念你。這封情書，給正在出差的你。

@兒子：身體痛，去做推拿，你像個跟屁蟲一樣，進了按摩室也寸步不離，轉悠得我心煩加頭暈，喊了幾次讓你去外面大廳，你執(zhí)拗著不肯挪步。晚上，你命令我趴在床上，像模像樣地給我按后背，說：“試試我這個按摩師的手藝，專門為你學的。”這時候，我討厭病痛，卻愛我的病身體。

@女兒：有些人，有些事，我開始歸為前世的愛與情，不然怎么辦呢？總有那么多的喜歡，那么多的甘心與情愿。對于這么多的莫名其妙，我只能說，前世我們在一起，或是愛情，或是親情，不是我愛了你一世，就是被你愛了一世。離開的那天清晨，你以為我睡了，輕輕撫摸我的頭發(fā)，其實我只是閉緊了眼睛，體會你的不舍得。

（摘自《現(xiàn)代婦女》2012年第6期）