文字难度：★★☆
The day my 1)fiancé fell to his death, it started to snow, just like any November day, just like 2)the bottom hadn’t fallen out of my world when he free-fell off the roof. His body, when I found it, was lightly covered with snow. It snowed almost every day for the next four months, while I sat on the couch and watched it pile up.
One morning, I shuffled downstairs and was startled to see a snowplow clearing my driveway and the bent back of a woman shoveling my walk. I dropped to my knees and crawled through the living room and back upstairs so those 3)good Samaritans would not see me. I was 4)mortified. My first thought was, “How will I ever repay them?” I didn’t have the strength to brush my hair let alone shovel someone’s walk.
Before Jon’s death, I took pride in the fact that I rarely asked for help or favors; I could always do it myself. My identity was defined by my competence and independence. Two hours after Jon died I canceled every obligation in my life. The identity crisis that followed was devastating. Who was I if I was no longer capable and busy? How could I respect myself if all I did was sit on the couch every day and watch the snow fall?
Learning how to receive the love and support that came my way wasn’t easy. Friends cooked for me and I cried because I couldn’t even help them set the table. “I’m not usually this lazy,” I 5)wailed. Finally my friend Kathy sat down with me and said, “Mary, cooking for you is not a big deal. I love you and I want to do it. It makes me feel good to be able to do something for you.”
Over and over, I heard similar 6)sentiments from the people who were supporting me during those dark days. One very wise person told me, “Watching your willingness to be vulnerable and to fully embrace your grief is a gift. The line between giving and receiving is constantly blurred.”
I began to think about how good it made me feel to help people, how the joy was always in the giving rather than the getting, and that maybe that was true for my friends and neighbors, as well. I also came to realize that I didn’t have to repay anyone in kind, but that I could pass on their love and compassion to others who needed it. Most importantly, I could accept their help in the spirit in which it was given—with grace and humility.
Surrendering to my 7)neediness helped light the path to a new identity. I came to understand that we are much more than what we do, that our value lies in who we are.
我未婚夫摔死的那天,初雪降临。就跟十一月里某个平常的日子一样,我的世界还没崩垮,而他却从屋顶跌坠下来了。当我发现他时,他的身体已盖上了薄薄的一层雪。之后的四个月里,差不多每天都在下雪,而我就坐在沙发上,看着雪一点一点地堆积起来。
一天早上,我拖着沉重的步子下楼,惊讶地发现家门前车道上有台扫雪机,一个女人正弯腰在那儿铲雪。为了不让那些好心人看到我,我跪在地上,爬过客厅,回到楼上。我感到十分羞愧。我首先想到的是,要怎样才能回报他们?我情绪低落得连梳头的力气都没有,更别说帮别人铲雪了。
乔恩去世之前,我很少会开口求人帮忙,为此,我感到自豪。我总能独自把事情做好,我把自己定位为一个独立、能干的人。乔恩去世两个小时后,原本由我扛着的大小职责我都撒手不管了,而接下来出现的身份危机更是毁了我。如果我不再能干,不再忙忙碌碌,那么我会成为一个怎样的人?如果我终日坐在沙发上看雪花飘落,我还有什么自尊可言?
学习如何接受别人对我的爱和支持并不容易。朋友们为我做饭,我哭了,因为我甚至提不起劲帮他们摆餐具。“我平常不是这么懒的,”我哀泣道。最后,我的朋友凯西坐到我旁边,说道:“玛丽,为你做饭没什么大不了的。我爱你,并且愿意为你做饭,能为你做些事让我感觉很好。”
在那段黑暗的日子里,我不断从那些给予我支持的人的口中听到类似的安慰话语。一个十分睿智的人告诉我:“看着你坦然流露出脆弱且直面悲伤,这是种恩赐。施与受的界限常常是模糊的。”
我开始思索,能帮助他人,感觉是多么好;相比受惠,施恩所带来的快乐总是更大的,而我的朋友和邻居们也许也这么认为。我还意识到,我不需要向任何人报恩,但我可以把他们的爱和怜悯传递给其他有需要的人。更重要的是,我能大方谦卑地接受别人的帮助,像他们伸以援手那样坦然。
向自己的困境低头助我找到了自我发展的新路向。我明白到,相比我们的所作所为,我们的人生包含着更丰富的内涵,而我们的价值就体现在我们成为了怎样的人。
