去年秋天，我母亲被诊断为晚期胃癌。每天早晨，我的父亲依然像往常一样，与母亲并肩前往晨练。我站在窗前，目睹着父母并肩而行，有说有笑，心中涌起一股无法抑制的悲伤……

我记得，以往的日子里，每周母亲都会精心制作一顿馄饨来给父亲解馋。父亲总是赞不绝口，他说外面的餐馆哪家的馄饨都不能与母亲包的相比，那馄饨皮薄、馅嫩，让人食之又香又不腻。

自从母亲病倒后，她开始改变习惯，每周要多包两次馄饨。而父亲也变得越来越能吃，一边狼吞虎咽地吃着，还有一搭没一搭地和我开玩笑。

我知道，母亲之所以这样做，是因为她意识到自己的时间宝贵，每多包一次就让她感到满足。而父亲也明白了这一点，他在珍惜每一次能吃到妈妈手中的那份爱情，就像是珍惜那些温暖的时光。

对于母亲的病情，我们家人的态度一直很坦然。我从未听他们谈论过痛苦或忧虑，只见他们面带微笑，即使在治疗的时候也是如此。生活没有因为mother's illness而发生大的变化，我们家的氛围依旧温暖如昔。

阳台上花海盛开，花香四溢，那些花儿似乎成了我们对抗忧愁的一道防线。在这里，我们一起种植着希望，也种下了无数个故事和回忆。Mother loved to nurture flowers, and Father would often buy a pot of new flowers for us to bring back home. The balcony was filled with plants, leaving no space for anyone to sit down. The sweet fragrance of the flowers wafted through the air.

Mother grew thinner day by day, but her spirit remained unbroken. One Saturday, my sister and I helped Mother make dumplings in the living room while Father played chess downstairs.

"Mom," she said with a smile, "I'm not worried about my illness now. My only concern is that you won't be happy when I'm gone." Her words made me and my sister silent as we fought back tears.

That evening before Mother passed away, she called me into her bedroom and took out a piece of paper from under her pillow. She asked me to keep it safe so that we could take care of Father after she was gone.

The note contained many instructions: "Don't put chili in your cooking," "Drink cold water every morning," etcetera... Tears fell one by one as I read through them all.

When Mother left us, Father didn't cry either. He simply sat beside her bed and said one sentence: "My wife, I still want you to pack dumplings for me..." With a serene smile on her face, Mother closed her eyes forever.

After laying Mother to rest, Father returned home without speaking a word. He disappeared into his study soon after; then came his sobs which echoed through the house again. My sister and I exchanged glances before backing out of his room quietly together.

Only later did we realize that our parents had never been as strong as they seemed; they just hid their grief behind smiles because they feared hurting each other more than anything else in this world

On the first Sunday after Mother's passing , my sisterand i followed mother's instructions carefully and made some dumplings for father . When it was time for dinner , father picked up a dumpling with chopsticks , took a bite , then put down his chopsticks sighing .

"I don't miss eating these dumplings anymore," he said softly . "It's just that there is someone who used to wrap these dumplings for me - that person is no longer here..."