上了大学之后，我离家越来越远，回家的次数越来越少，见到妈妈的机会也越来

After I went to college, I became farther and farther away from home. I went home less and less often, and the opportunities to see my mother became less and less. The cold winter is coming again. I returned to my childhood in a dream on a winter night, and reunited with my mother again in my dream. The warmth of maternal love is enough to withstand every biting cold wind in winter. The little boy described in the poem is actually a microcosm of himself. When he was a child, every time he was sad or bullied, he would go home to his mother. My mother would pat my back, buy me things I like, and comfort me. Now that I am older, I often miss this feeling. But as I grow older, my mother is getting older and her health is getting worse. My mother suffered from cerebral infarction and has been bedridden for a long time, feeling depressed all the time. As a son, there is nothing he can do to help her get better quickly. She is depressed and can only miss this feeling.

After going to college, I got farther and farther away from home, and the number of times I went home became less and less, and the chances of seeing my mother also became less and less. The cold winter has arrived again. I returned to my childhood in my winter dreams and reunited with my mother again. The warmth of maternal love is enough to withstand every piercing winter wind. The little boy depicted in the poem is actually a microcosm of himself. When he was young, whenever he was sad or bullied, he would go home to find his mother. My mother will pat my back, buy me things I like, and comfort me. Now that I have grown up, I often miss this feeling. But as she grows older, her mother is getting older and her health is getting worse. My mother has suffered from a brain infarction and has been bedridden for a long time, feeling constantly depressed. As a son, there was no way to make her feel better quickly. She felt depressed and could only miss this feeling.

After going to college, I am getting farther and farther away from home, going home less and less, and seeing my mother less and less. The cold winter is coming again. I went back to my childhood in a winter night's dream and reunited with my mother in my dream. The warmth of maternal love is enough to resist every biting cold wind in winter. The little boy described in the poem is actually a microcosm of himself. When he was a child, every time he was sad or bullied, he would go home to find his mother. My mother will pat me on the back, buy me something I like and comfort me. Now that I am older, I often miss this feeling. But as I grow older, my mother is getting older and worse. My mother suffered a cerebral infarction and has been ill in bed for a long time, and her mood has been depressed. As a son, there is no way to make her get better quickly, and she is depressed. I can only miss this feeling.