The doctor issued a notice of critical illness, saying that our son would soon be gone. Let's prepare for the aftermath.
We don't understand. What is it that's almost gone?
What are you going to do? Isn't it all right? I just said that we're going to have wonton for dinner. I don't believe it!
Didn't he continue to write, sing and play the guitar well during his illness? He will continue to go to junior high school, senior high school and the best university in the future.
He will continue to play guitar, organize bands in universities, fall in love, get married...
His mother told me that when his son died, she had left a few words behind.
He said: It's a pity that he left the world so soon. Before he had time to leave anything, he would leave.
It's really a pity that there are so many wishes that haven't come true...
He said he had written a lot of lyrics, but he didn't seem to have a chance to compose them. If only someone could make them out.
He said, "Mom, can I be wayward once?"
He said: Mom, there is a man who is both a writer and a singer. I have read his books and listened to his songs. It's hard to find this man, but Mom, you can help me find him. If you can't find him for one year, you can find him for two years. Give him my lyrics and he will understand them.
He said, "I've read his book, and I guess he'll agree.
He said, "Mom, my good mother, I never asked you anything. I'll be capricious this time in my life, you must be.
It's our incompetence as parents.
You're gone, and we don't want to live.
Son's body is getting more and more uncomfortable, but he always said: Mom, I am not uncomfortable, in two days the cells will rise, you must not cry. He tried to wipe his mother's tears, but his hands couldn't lift.