Bike Ride?

On a cloudy day, two men rode their bikes from their home to a nearby town. It's a single lane road, surrounded by all the rice fields, full of vegetation, on the way they crossed a railroad track, and the person in the back seat started saying there was no road here when I was a kid, just a footbridge, used to be people walked with sticks to protect themselves. 

In order to feed us, my mother got up early and came to this place to work, which is 7 km from home. She used to work here in the fields of

and brought the grain home to feed us. He added that he used to get a lot of fruits like custard apples, currants, grains like ground walnuts, millets and all legumes.

Very often she sourced unpolished rice and processed it herself using the traditional methods we had at the time. The food she prepared was very tasty and delicious. When I came home from the hostel on vacation, I would go with my mother to forage grain. I enjoyed going with my mom, but it was very difficult for mom because she has to get up early, she has to do all the daily chores, she has to go here and hold me on her shoulders and then under the sun she used to work, at night along with the grains to bring me home. She was a hard worker. 

Suddenly he started to cry. I stopped the bike on the side, and he continued, wiping his tears. My dear son, if she is alive, I have taken care of her with all the comforts she needs. But I lost her in my childhood. I miss her, my son, I miss her.

I've seen 70 years of my life, without mom it's about 58 years so far, I've been through a lot of pain in those long years. That shouldn't be your case, my son. You have to go through many things in your life. Don't misunderstand your mother, my dear son. I was mad at you for the mistake you made with your son.

Don't take it too seriously because once a person partially leaves us, life becomes very difficult to live. So no ego, no anger and no sorrow. Just ask mom for forgiveness and then be with her like you were when you were a kid. She feels happy. Come on...