Today, when my father and I play badminton, I found my father runs more slowly than before a lot of. Look again carefully, his black hair hidden in the slightest hair. Suddenly, I realized that my father is old.
My father is a be scanty of words. In my memory, he never hugged my. Therefore, I always feel the mother's love, and ignore the Father also love me deeply, because his love is implicitly. He will attack by innuendo and asked me about my studies; he will when the weather turns cold quietly put a sweater on my bed; he will be to send me a raincoat and outside of the classroom to wait for a long time ... ... And I always accept it, feels it is his duty. How stupid I am!
Time goes by, I gradually grow up, finally realized his father 's love for me. Yes, love is silent, but is also great.