Author: Chen Yingzhen 陳縈楨
My father always wore that blue shirt with horizontal stripes, paired with a pair of dress pants. His plain appearance, however, left a deep impression in my heart. In our household, most matters, big or small, were decided by my mother. My father rarely voiced his opinions. Yet in our eyes, he was the man who silently supported the entire family, the ever-busy “Dad” who was always there.
My father had a unique way of loving his children. He was never good at sweet words, but he expressed love through his actions. From Monday to Friday, he would ride his motorcycle and take us to school punctually. His back became my greatest source of safety. No matter how busy work was, he never neglected our education. He always found ways to pay for our tuition and extra lessons so that we could make up for what we lacked in our studies.
When we turned twenty, my father bought each of his children a car. This was not merely a gift; it was his love. He hoped it would make commuting to school and work more convenient and ensure that we could return home safely. Even when we said nothing, he had already planned everything for us. He even worried that we might be lonely in the future and saved up a pension for his old age, hoping that one day we would not be left helpless. His way of loving us was often hidden in the details, yet it was profoundly real.
My father’s childhood was not a happy one. When he was young, my grandmother did not know how to love him. Yet my father did not become cold or indifferent because of it. Instead, he chose to use love to make up for what was missing, pouring his heart and soul into us.
When my grandmother fell ill, he still fulfilled his duty as a son. He stayed by her side day and night at the hospital, accompanying her until her final moments, and personally handled all the funeral arrangements. At that moment, the father I saw was not only my dad, but also a devoted son who understood responsibility and bore it without complaint.
However, such a great father left us at the age of sixty-seven. On that day, my heart felt as though it had been torn apart. I believed my father would defeat his illness and stay with us, just as he had when he was young, riding his motorcycle to take his children to school; just as he had in his middle years, planning our futures and giving us a car and a sense of security. Yet life is so fragile. No matter how unwilling we were, there was nothing we could do.
My father’s passing made me truly understand the meaning of “impermanence.” I no longer hear him chanting scriptures, no longer see the familiar figure in his blue striped shirt, no longer feel his reassuring smile as he watched us return home safely. Ordinary daily moments have now become a luxury. Only after losing my father did I realize that the most irreplaceable thing in the world is a father’s presence.
That pain is beyond words. It feels as though a piece of my chest is forever missing. No matter how hard I try, it can never be filled. I even feel deep regret. Did I thank him too little in the past? Did I spend too little time with him? Did I take his love for granted while he was still with us? These questions have become an everlasting ache in my heart.
I know that my father would never want me to be crushed by grief. Through a lifetime of actions, he taught me what love is, what education is, and what responsibility means. He did not rely on grand words, yet he left behind the most genuine example: giving for family, sacrificing for children, and protecting loved ones. This spirit will remain deeply etched in my mind.
In the quiet of the night, I often think of my father’s smile, of the way he stayed by my grandmother’s side in the hospital, of the proud look in his eyes when he gave us our cars. These memories often bring tears to my eyes, yet they also warm my heart. Because I know my father has not truly left, he remains with us in his own way, watching over us and blessing us.
My father is gone, but the love and strength he left behind has become the foundation of how I raise my own children and the support that keeps me moving forward. Though pain and helplessness still surge from time to time, I will strive to turn this longing into action and carry on because this is the version of me my father would most want to see.
Father, thank you for spending your entire life working so that we could live better lives. Thank you for loving us in the most simple and sincere way. Although you have left us, your smile and everything you gave us will forever be sealed in my heart.
我的父親，總是穿著那件藍色橫線紋襯
衫，搭配一條西裝褲。他的樸實身影，卻在我心裡留下深刻的印象。家裡大大
小小的事情，多半是母親說了算，父親並不常表態。但在我們眼中，他卻是一
位默默支撐全家的男人，是那位永遠很忙的「爸爸」。
父親愛孩子的方式很特別，他從不擅長說甜言蜜語，但他用行動表達愛。星期
一到星期五，他總會騎著摩托車，準時載我們去上課。父親背影，便成為我最
安全的依靠。即使工作再忙，他也不曾忽略我們的學習，總是努力付款，讓我
們能補習，學習自己不足的地方。
在我們二十歲的時候，父親送孩子們每人一輛車。這不只是一份禮物，而是父
親對我們的愛。他希望我們上課、上班更方便，也能平安到家。即便我們什麼
都不說，他也替我們想好了一切。父親甚至擔心我們未來可能孤單，還幫忙存
下老後的年金，只希望有一天我們不至於手足無措。他愛我們的方式，往往藏
在細節裡，卻這麼真實。
父親的童年並不快樂。奶奶在他小時候，並不懂得怎麼去愛他。但，父親並沒
有因此變成冷漠無情的人，他選擇用愛彌補缺憾，全心全意傾注在我們身上。
在奶奶生病時，他依舊盡了兒子的責任，日夜守護在醫院，陪伴到她離世，並
一手處理後事。在那一刻，我看見的父親，不只是我的爸爸，也是一個孝順、
懂得承擔的兒子。
然而，這樣一位偉大的父親，卻在六十七歲時離開了我們。那一天，我的心像
是被撕裂般痛楚。我以為父親可以打敗病魔陪伴著我們，就如他年輕時那樣騎
著摩托車，載著孩子去上課；如，他中年時那樣，籌劃著我們的未來，給我們
一輛車、一份保障。然而，生命卻如此脆弱，我們再怎麼不願意，也無能為
力。
父親的離去，讓我深深體會到什麼叫做「無常」。聽不到他的唸經聲，看不到他
藍色橫線紋襯衫的身影，感受不到他對我們笑、看著我們回家安心的愛。平凡
的日常，如今卻成了奢求。在失去父親之後，才明白，世界上最無法替代的東
西，就是父親的存在。
那種痛，是我無法形容的。彷彿胸口永遠缺了一塊，再怎麼努力，也補不回
來。我甚至非常懊悔，過去是不是太少對他謝謝？是不是太少陪伴？是不是在
他還在的時候，把他的愛視為理所當然？這些問題，成了我心中永遠的酸楚。
我知道，父親一定不希望我被傷痛壓垮。他用了一生的行動教會我什麼是愛、
什麼是教及什麼是責任。他不用華麗的話語，卻留下最真實的榜樣：為家庭付
出，為孩子犧牲，為親人守護。這份精神，會一直深留在我腦裡。
每當夜深人靜時，我會想起父親的笑容，想起他在醫院守護奶奶的身影，想起
他給我們一輛車時那驕傲眼神。這些畫面，常可讓我眼淚掉落，卻也讓我感到
溫暖。因為我知道，父親沒有離開，他用他的方式，永遠留在我們心裡及保佑
著我們。
父親走了，他留給我的愛與力量，成為了我教導孩子的主要方式及讓我繼續走
下去的依靠。雖然痛苦，無力感也時時湧現，但我會努力將這份思念變成行為
努力執行下去，因為這是父親最希望看見我的樣子。
父親，謝謝您努力用了您的一生來讓我們過著更好，謝謝您用最樸實的方式愛
著我們。雖然您已離開了，但您的笑容及這一切，永遠存封在我心中。