"If you were a towering tree, I would be a seed, your generous shade guarded me, looking at your height every day..." Whenever this song lingers in my ears, I will remember my father.

Since I can remember, my father has used his generous palm to walk with me, feeling the temperature of my father's palm, and there is an indescribable sense of security. I remember that after entering the county experimental middle school, one day before the beginning of school, my father asked me, will you be homesick when you go home a week after school starts tomorrow? I proudly said, "Don't worry, I won't miss you." Unexpectedly, on the first night of school, I started crying in the dormitory. What I didn’t expect was that when I left the dormitory door the next morning, I saw my father. He wandered around the door of the dormitory carrying a bag full of snacks. He saw me coming out with a bright smile on his face. I was pleasantly surprised. I ran over and hugged my father's broad shoulders and started crying. My father just touched my hair and said, "No more crying, no more crying..." I felt a lot more at ease at the time.

Father knows that I love to eat fish. Every time I go home, there is always one dish on the dinner table, which is fish stew. I remember when I was in college, when I just had a phone call before I went home, my father said in the first sentence: "Come back, I will make you your favorite fish stew." Every time I hear this, my saliva will flow. Out. But now, I am married and I have less time to go home, but my father will also send me stewed fish to my house every other time, and by the way a lot of fruit. They all say maternal love is selfless and great, but I say father love is delicate and deep.

The last time I went home, I suddenly found that my father was old, thin, and his hands were covered with calluses. The hair on the temples turned white, and deep wrinkles climbed up his cheeks. His strong and strong body made the years. The traces of Slowly sharpened into an old man. Looking at my father's figure, I suddenly felt that time flies so fast. Looking back on what I have done for my father over the years? How much time have you spent with your father? Unconsciously a sense of guilt came to my heart. My father's words gradually became less, and the only thing that remained unchanged was the heart that loved me.

This is my father, the father who loves me and loves me. Over the years, I have always wanted to say to my father: "Father, you have worked hard." The daughter has grown up, and with her own family, the daughter will spend the rest of the time. To thank you, I wish you good health and peace!