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snapshot of herself in a bathing suit; which drove me to the wildest of fantasies。 I mentioned the possibility of marriage in my next letter; and almost immediately her replies became less frequent; less personal。
The first thing I did when I returned to the States was to call on Rachel。 Her mother answered the door。 Rachel no longer lived there。 She had married a medical student she’d met in college。 “I thought she wrote you。” her mother said。
Her“Dear John” letter finally caught up with me while I was awaiting discharge。 She gently explained the impossibility of a marriage between us。 Looking back on it; I must have recovered rather quickly; although for the first few months I believed I didn’t want to live。 Like Rachel; I found someone else; whom I learned to love with a deep and permanent5 mitment that has lasted to this day。
Then; recently; after an interval of more than 40 years; I heard from Rachel again。 Her husband had died。 She was passing through town and had learned of my where abouts through a mutual friend。 We agreed to meet。 。 想看书来
初 恋(3)
I felt both curious and excited。 In the last few years; I hadn’t thought about her; and her sudden call one morning had taken me aback。 The actual sight of her was a shock。 This white…haired matron6 at the restaurant table was the Rachel of my dreams and desires; the supple mermaid of that snapshot?
Yet time had given us a mon reference and respect。 We talked as old friends; and quickly discovered we were both grandparents。
“Do you remember this?” She handed me a slip of worn paper。 It was a poem I’d written her while still in school。 I examined the crude meter and pallid rhymes。 Watching my face; she snatched the poem from me and returned it to her purse; as though fearful I was going to destroy it。
I told her about the snapshot; how I’d carried it all through the war。
“It wouldn’t have worked out; you know。” she said。
“How can you be sure?” I countered。 “Ah; colleen; it might have been grand indeed—my Irish conscience and your Jewish guilt!”
Our laughter startled people at a nearby table。 During the time left to us; our glances were furtive; oblique。 I think that what we saw in each other repudiated what we’d once been to ourselves; we immortals。
Before I put her into a taxi; she turned to me。 “I just wanted to see you once more。 To tell you something。” Her eyes met mine。“I wanted to thank you for having loved me as you did。 ” We kissed; and she left。
From a store window my reflection stared back at me; an aging mall; with gray hair stirred by an evening breeze。 I decided to walk home。 Her kiss still burned on my lips。 I felt faint; and sat on a park bench。 All around me the grass and trees were shining in the surreal glow of sunset。 Something was being lifted out of me。 Something had been pleted; and the scene before me was so beautiful that I wanted to shout and dance and sing for joy。
That soon passed; as everything must; and presently I was able to stand and start for home。
。。
家
佚名
我与一位路过的陌生人相撞了。我赶忙说声:“对不起!”他却说:“我也很抱歉……我没有注意到你。”我们彼此都彬彬有礼——陌生人和我。之后我们道别,各自上路。
但是,在家里的情况却完全不同。我们是怎样对待自己的爱人、孩子和老人呢?之后,当我在厨房做饭时,我的女儿蹑手蹑脚地进来,静悄悄地躲在我的背后。当我转身时差点撞倒了她。“让开!”我皱着眉头咆哮。她怏怏地离开,带着破碎的小小心灵。我没有意识到自己说得多严厉。
那晚,我躺在床上,上帝轻声地对我说:“与陌生人打交道,你沉着冷静、彬彬有礼。但与亲人相处,你却很容易激动……现在,去看看厨房的地上,你会看到门边的一些花。那些美丽的花朵是她带绐你的。她亲手采摘下来的——粉色的、黄色的,还有蓝色的。她悄悄地站在那里,是想给你一个惊喜。你都没看到她眼中的泪水。”
到现在,我感觉自己很悲哀、很渺小,此刻,我的泪水开始奔涌。我悄悄地来到她的床前,跪在床边:“醒醒,小甜心,醒一下,”我轻声地唤着她,“那些花是你采给我的吗?”自豪的笑容浮上她的嘴角,“我在外面的榆树旁发现的。我用一张餐巾纸包起来,就是为了送给你。我知道你一定会喜欢,尤其是蓝色的。”我感动地说:“对不起,宝贝,我今天没看到它们……我不该那样对你大喊大叫。”
她低声地说:“没事的,妈妈……不管怎样,我还是爱你。”我紧紧地拥抱住她说:“妈妈也爱你……妈妈也爱宝贝送的花,尤其喜欢那些蓝色的。”
你是否意识到这点:如果你明天就要死去,你所在的公司不到几天就会找到替代你的人,而你抛下的家人,会在余生里感受着失去你的哀伤。好好想想吧,我们把更多的精力投放在事业上,而不是在家庭上,这是多么愚蠢的投资啊!
Family
Anonymous
I ran into a stranger as he passed by“I’m so sorry!” was my reply. Then he said,“Excuse me too。。。 I wasn’t even watching for you.” We were very polite; this stranger and I. Then we went on our ways after saying good…bye.
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