等待也是一种爱,一种默默的爱。记得那一年,我回老家过年。吃完晚饭,我站在家门口吹着向晚的微风,对面屋子的门是敞开的,我可以清楚地看见屋里的一举一动。其间有一位白发苍苍的老奶奶孤孤单单地坐在一张破旧的椅子上,看着黑白电视。顿时,一股怜悯之情涌上心头。我有些迷惑不解,这么大的一个屋子里只住着一个老奶奶,其他照顾她的人呢?她的孩子们,她的家人呢?他们去哪了?我带着这些疑问急忙跑去找爷爷,爷爷听了我的问题无奈地摇摇头,说:"那位奶奶原本有一个女儿和一个儿子的。后来儿子去 Waiting is also a kind of love, a silent love. I remember that year, I go home New Year. After dinner, I stood in front of the house blowing the evening breeze, opposite the house door is open, I can clearly see every move in the house. In the meantime a white-haired granny lonely sitting in a shabby chair, watching black and white TV. Suddenly, a sense of compassion in my heart. I am a little puzzled, such a big house with only a grandmother, other care for her people? Her children, her family? Where did they go? I took these questions quickly ran to find the grandfather , Grandpa listened to my question reluctantly shook his head and said: The grandmother had a daughter and a son later son went