English Original
After Mom died, I began visiting Dad every morning before work. Frail and slow-moving, he always had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice waiting for me, accompanied by an unsigned note: "Drink your juice." I knew this was his way of expressing love.
As a child, I once asked Mom, "Why doesn't Dad love me?" She smiled and replied, "He never tells me either. But look how hard he works to care for us. That's how he says 'I love you.'" I understood intellectually, but my heart yearned for him to say the words.
Dad ran a small scrap metal business. I often watched him work after school, hoping he'd ask for my help. He never did. His work was dangerous—feeding steel into a giant chopper or cutting metal with a roaring torch that spewed molten sparks.
One evening, Mom massaged his sore shoulders and asked why he didn't hire help. "Why don't you hire a cook?" Dad retorted with a rare smile. Their playful banter revealed a hidden sense of humor.
Years later, during my morning visits, I started hugging him and saying, "I love you, Dad." He never reacted. One rushed morning, I drank the juice and headed for the door.
Dad stepped in front of me. "Well?" he said, avoiding my gaze. I hugged him tightly and finally voiced my lifelong wish: "I'm fifty, and you've never told me you love me."
He looked intensely uncomfortable. "Dad, I need to hear it," I insisted. After a tense silence, he finally blurted out, "All right, I love you." His hands fluttered, and his eyes glistened, then overflowed with tears.
I stood stunned. In that moment, my heart finally understood what my mind had long known. His love had always been there—in every glass of juice, every long day of work, every silent sacrifice. "I know, Dad," I whispered. "I know."
中文翻译
母亲去世后，我开始每天上班前去看望父亲。他身体虚弱，行动缓慢，但总会在厨房桌上为我准备一杯鲜榨橙汁，旁边放着一张未署名的纸条：“喝掉你的果汁。”我知道，这就是他表达爱的全部方式。
小时候，我曾问妈妈：“为什么爸爸不爱我？”她微笑着说：“他也从没对我说过。但看看他多么努力地照顾我们。那就是他在说‘我爱你’。”我头脑里明白，但心里却渴望他能亲口说出来。
父亲经营一家小废金属厂。放学后我常看他工作，希望他能让我帮忙。但他从未开口。他的工作很危险——要把钢材喂进巨大的切割机，或用喷着火焰、溅出熔融金属火花的乙炔炬切割金属。
一天晚上，妈妈为他按摩酸痛的肩膀，问他为什么不雇个帮手。“那你为什么不雇个厨师？”父亲难得地笑着反驳。他们轻松的拌嘴让我第一次发现父亲也有幽默感。
多年后，在我每日清晨的探望中，我开始拥抱他并说：“我爱你，爸爸。”他从未回应。一个匆忙的早晨，我喝完果汁就向门口走去。
父亲拦在我面前。“嗯？”他说道，目光躲闪。我紧紧抱住他，终于说出了毕生的愿望：“我五十岁了，你从没告诉过我你爱我。”
他显得极为不安。“爸爸，我需要听你亲口说，”我坚持道。一阵紧张的沉默后，他终于脱口而出：“好吧，我爱你。”他的双手微微颤抖，眼中泛起泪光，随后泪水夺眶而出。
我震惊地站在原地。那一刻，我的心终于理解了头脑早已明白的事。他的爱一直都在——在每一杯果汁里，在每一个漫长的工作日里，在每一次无声的付出中。“我知道，爸爸，”我轻声说。“我终于明白了。”