My father’s love story has always been a topic of admiration and delight among our relatives and friends.
Throughout his life, my father was passionately in love with one woman: my mother. They have journeyed together for 65 years, from knowing each other, falling in love, getting married, to growing old together. Their story began in 1950 when they were admitted to the same middle school. Both were 12 years old that year, and though my father, now standing at 1.76 meters tall, was only 1.46 meters back then. My mother described him as a little potato, even shorter than her.
They spent three years of middle school and three years of high school together. After high school, they both excelled in their exams and were admitted to the Department of Engineering Physics at Tsinghua University, studying nuclear physics. They completed six years of university together in the beautiful Tsinghua campus, as Tsinghua’s undergraduate program was six years long at that time.
They essentially grew up together, learning from the same teachers, sharing common interests, and having mutual friends. Even their hobbies were aligned, enjoying their shared happiness throughout life. My mother was a key member of the school gymnastics team and won the women’s all-around championship representing Tsinghua University in the Beijing college gymnastics competition.
My father, though a team member, was a level lower, but a photo of him performing a cross on the rings still fascinates me, imagining how his developed muscles must have enchanted many Tsinghua girls back then.
I once asked my parents, “Was it the power of love that made you both get into the same university and the same major?”
They both denied it, saying they only started dating in university, with my grandfather, who was their middle school physics teacher, as a witness. My father told me that many handsome and talented men pursued my mother during their university days. Despite my father’s good looks now, he was a hot-blooded young man with early grey hair, a sharp gaze, and slightly protruding teeth, making him look older than his age.
But my mother said she didn’t choose him for his looks. She admired his character, finding him honest, sincere, and kind-hearted. Their mutual support and affection over more than half a century proved my mother’s wise and correct choice. My father was proud of his devoted pursuit of my mother, often praising her as a wise and talented woman.
He considered his greatest achievement in life to be finding my mother as his lifelong partner, believing that having her by his side made his life worthwhile. After graduating, my father stayed at Tsinghua to teach while my mother went to a research institute. Two years later, they were married in the presence of their parents and loved ones. The following year, they welcomed their first child, me.
While I can only imagine the romantic and sweet courtship of my parents before their marriage, it’s a slight regret. However, at 50 years old, I have been fortunate to witness their love and companionship over half a century. Their love did not diminish with the daily grind of family life but grew stronger, spreading warmth and happiness throughout our family.
In 50 years, I never saw them argue or fight. They were always together, cooking dinner, working side by side at the desk, and talking about their day before bed. Their deep understanding and support for each other, their mutual affection and respect, have always made me envious.
Friends who interacted with my parents often envied their loving relationship and the warm atmosphere of our home. Many of my friends loved visiting our home, enjoying the joy and warmth. One of my best friends even stayed with us and considered herself part of our family, continuing to feel that bond whenever my parents visited Japan.
My parents’ love story is endless, but today I want to recall two deeply memorable episodes.
Throughout their 50 years of knowing and loving each other, my parents were rarely apart. In the early 1980s, as they and their peers worked tirelessly to recover from the losses of the Cultural Revolution, my parents juggled the pressures of caring for elderly parents and young children while being key figures at work.
My mother had an opportunity for a six-month English language training in Suzhou, and my father fully supported her, taking on the household duties alone. It was their first long separation after marriage, and their letters were filled with my mother’s instructions and worries about the family, and my father’s encouragement and support.
With his understanding and support, my mother, starting to learn English in her 40s, studied diligently and excelled, setting a great example for me and my sister. This experience made me proud of my mother and filled me with respect for my father. Although they were in the same field, they were never competitors but supported and took pride in each other’s achievements.
In their old age, my father developed high blood pressure and heart disease, and my mother cared for him like a family doctor. In 20xx, my son was born, and my father hadn’t retired yet, so my mother came to Japan to help me during my postpartum period. Worried about my father’s health, she arranged everything before leaving.
Communication was mainly through emails, and they kept in touch daily. However, before my mother returned, contact with my father suddenly ceased. My father had been hospitalized due to a heart attack and didn’t want to worry us. My mother, sensing something was wrong, rushed back to Beijing and found out the truth. My father’s loving deception was revealed upon their reunion at the airport. This incident made me vow never to let them be apart for long again.
My father loves both my mother and us children, but his love for my mother surpasses everything. He never shied away from expressing his love for her, even in front of us or others. Initially, I didn’t understand and felt a bit jealous, but I later realized that placing my mother first was his secret to maintaining a happy marriage. Their strong bond provided us with a stable and loving home.
Now, my parents are in their eighties, often seen together hand in hand, attracting admiring looks from passersby. I wish them continued happiness and togetherness in their golden years.
For over half a century, my parents have created a harmonious and happy home with their love, inspiring my sister and me. Their mutual care, support, and unending love have been the key to their successful marriage, and it is the most valuable gift they have given me. I carry this legacy into my marriage and will pass it on to my son.
May such beautiful love stories continue to be passed down through generations.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
