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我的父亲有15年没有和我说过一句话了。埋他的那堆黄土前的柳树都已经很粗了。不知道他这15年想我没有,想他的儿女和我的母亲没有,倘若想了,又都想些啥儿。可是我,却总是想念我的父亲,想起我小时候父亲对我的训骂和痛打。好像,我每每想起父亲,都是从他对我的痛打开始的。能记到的第一次痛打是我七八岁的当儿,读小学,那时候每年的春节前,父亲都千方百计存下几块钱,把这几块钱全都换成一叠儿簇新的一
My father had not spoken to me for 15 years. The willows that had buried him before the loess were already very thick. I don’t know if he thought I didn’t have these 15 years. I don’t think his children and my mother did. But I, but always miss my father, I remember my father’s instructions and beat me in my childhood. It seems that when I think of my father, it starts with his bitter fight against me. The first time I was able to remember it was when I was seven or eight years old. When I was in elementary school, my father tried every possible way to save a few dollars before the Spring Festival every year and replaced all the money with a new one.