文字难度：★★★
Mom's eyesight was 1)deteriorating, but I didn't know just how bad it had gotten until I saw her stooped in the one-bedroom 2)in-law apartment attached to our house, reaching to pick up something off the floor. She grabbed at it, then studied her empty thumb and forefinger with a puzzled expression. Again she tried to pinch the glimmering spot on her living-room rug. Nothing. Frowning, she turned to me. Behind the thick lens of her glasses her blue-green eyes 3)clouded with concern. “Mom,” I said, “it's just a patch of sunlight.” She shook her head, 4)wary to admit something was wrong. That much I could be grateful for. Her attitude was always positive, even determined. She 5)took the challenges of getting old in stride.
妈妈的视力在逐渐恶化，但是我不知道情况已经有多严重，直到我看见她在挨着我们房子、租来的一室一厅公寓里弯下腰去捡掉在地上的东西。她伸手捻抓，然后用疑惑的表情打量着自己那空空如也的拇指和食指。然后，她再试图去捏起客厅地毯上闪闪发光的物体。什么也没有。她皱着眉头望向我。透过厚厚的眼镜片，她那蓝绿色的眼睛满是担忧。“妈妈，那只是一点光斑。”我说道。她摇摇头，若有所思地承认有些事情不对劲。对这一点我应该心存感激。她的态度一直是积极的，甚至是坚定的。她泰然自若地应对着慢慢变老的挑战。
Back when she first moved in with us, I didn't know what it would be like. She was in her late 70s, fiercely independent, and I was a mom raising two kids in the suburbs. We hadn't lived under the same roof since I left for college. We were unalike in so many ways. She was 6)disorganized and spontaneous; I was a bit of a control 7)freak. My idea of fun as a girl was 8)alphabetizing the books in my bedroom while she loved to spend a whole afternoon shopping, especially if there was a 9)sale. I thought it was an incredible waste of an afternoon. In junior high I insisted that my shirt and skirt had to match exactly. “Don't be afraid to mix things up,” Mom would say. “Everything doesn't have to match.” Oh, yes, it did. But all that was long ago. What would it be like having her right here with us? She liked to entertain friends 10)at the drop of a hat. She loved it when people dropped in unexpectedly for tea and a chat. I liked 11)having company too, but I preferred advance notice. Twenty-four hours. Minimum.
回想起她刚搬进来与我们一同生活的时候，我不知道会是什么状况。那时她将近80岁，非常独立；而我，是一个在郊区抚养着两个孩子的母亲。自我上大学起，我们便没有生活在同一个屋檐下。我们在很多方面都不相像。她没有条理，为人随性；而我是个控制狂。我还小的时候，觉得最有乐趣的就是将卧室里的书按照字母顺序排列起来，而她则喜欢花上一整个下午逛街，特别是在有特卖会的时候。我觉得那真是白白浪费了一个下午。初中时，我坚持衬衫和裙子一定要完全搭配。“别担心混搭混穿，”妈妈会说，“不必把所有东西都匹配起来。”噢，才不呢，必须相配。但那已经是很久之前的事情了。现在如果她和我们住一起，会变成什么样呢？她喜欢即兴招待朋友，很喜欢朋友不期而至地到家里喝茶聊天。我也很喜欢有人相伴，但是我更喜欢提前打个招呼。至少提前24小时。
At least her apartment adjoining our house had its own kitchen, its own bathroom and its own entries. It makes sense to have her move in, I told myself. We could get right to her if there were some emergency. Still, I wondered. After so many years apart, we were such different people. And she was so independent. We made sure Mom had her own mailbox and phone, and soon she had her own friends. I could hear their laughter through the wall and the sound of the whistling teakettle. I could peek through the window and see the table she had set for her bridge group, mixing the different patterns of china and 12)glassware. So like Mom. For a moment I wished I could be so creative.
至少她那间公寓毗邻我们的房子，有独立的厨房、浴室和入口。我告诉自己，让她搬进来是明智的。如果有紧急情况，我们可以马上赶到她身边。不过，我仍然很疑惑。分开这么多年，我们是如此不同的人。而且她又是那么独立。我们确保妈妈有她自己的信箱和电话，而她很快也拥有了自己的朋友。透过墙壁，我能听到他们的笑声和茶壶水开的哨音。透过窗户，我看到她为牌友们摆设的桌子，上面摆着不同图案的瓷器和玻璃器皿。这才是妈妈的作风。此时此刻，我希望我也能如此有创意。
We found ways to help her deal with her 13)macular degeneration. My husband, Tom, installed bright 14)halogen lights in her living room. My sister, Laurie, sent away for a special telephone with big-print numbers. We used colorful plastic 15)adhesive buttons to identify the proper settings on her 16)thermostat and microwave. Then came that morning I saw her picking a spot of sunlight off the floor. “Maybe I need more help than I thought,” Mom said. I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I said, “I guess so.” I should have been prepared for this, but I wasn't. I thought things could stay as they were. Mom was going blind, and the doctors said nothing more could be done. I retreated to my kitchen and said a prayer for strength.
我们寻找了很多方法去帮助她对抗视网膜黄斑变性疾病。我的丈夫汤姆，在她的客厅里安装了明亮的卤素灯。我的妹妹劳里给妈妈邮购了带有大号字母的特制电话。我们把彩色的塑料粘性按钮贴在她的恒温器和微波炉上，方便她识别出正确的设置。然后那天早上，我看到她去捡拾地上的阳光。妈妈说：“也许我比自己想象中需要更多的帮助。”我深深地吸了一口气。“是的，”我说，“我想是的。”我应该事先做好心理准备，但是我没有。我以为事情仍然可以像之前一样。妈妈快要失明了，医生说没有什么可以做的了。我躲进厨房里祈祷，祈求自己能坚强面对。
Then I set out to find a whole new set of resources. I discovered that our town provided a free service called the “GetAbout” van for seniors who needed transportation. My sister 17)pitched in with frequent visits and trips with Mom to the city. And all those friends whose laughter I heard through the wall…they were only too glad to help. Life took on a sense of new normal. Soon I could hear the teakettle sing on the other side of the wall. Once, after an afternoon with her friends, Mom came to me, giggling. “The girls had me sit on the floor. They wanted to watch me get up on my own. They couldn't believe I was so 18)limber.” I could hear the 19)note of pride in her voice. Would I have gotten down on the floor in front of my friends just to prove a point?
然后，我开始去寻找一整套全新的方案。我发现，我们的小镇提供一项称为“出行小巴”的免费服务，接载需要出行的老人。我妹妹则更常来看妈妈，还时常带她到城里参观旅游。那些笑声透过墙壁传到我耳中的朋友们……他们非常乐于提供帮助。生活呈现出一种新的常态。不久，我能听到墙的另一边传来茶壶的“歌声”。有一次，与她的朋友们度过一个下午后，妈妈来找我，咯咯地笑着说：“那些女孩们让我坐在地板上。她们想要看我凭自己的力量站起来。他们不敢相信我还非常灵活。”我能听出她声音里的自豪感。我会不会仅仅为了证明这一点而在我的朋友面前坐在地板上呢？
“You know,” Mom continued, “losing your sight isn't so bad. When you can't see the wrinkles, everyone looks beautiful!” I looked at her and wondered if I could ever be so accepting of such a 20)scary thing as losing my eyesight. What I once saw as Mom's disorganization now seemed to be an incredible 21)flexibility, a gift for rolling with life's punches, of adapting.
“你知道”，妈妈继续说，“失明并没有那么糟糕。当你看不到皱纹时，每个人看上去都很美！”我看着她，想象着我能不能接受失明这么一件可怕的事情。我以前会觉得妈妈行事毫无章法，如今这看来似乎是一种惊人的适应性，一种随遇而安的天赋。
A few weeks before Christmas in 2002, Mom complained of shortness of breath. The 22)internist sent us to the 23)cardiologist who sent Mom to get an 24)echocardiogram. In the examination room I guided Mom's thin arms through the 25)gaping holes of a huge blue paper gown. How tiny and frail she looked. When had she gotten so old? I wondered. Mom had 26)congestive heart failure. She wasn't a good candidate for 27)heart valve replacement surgery. “But with proper 28)medication,” the cardiologist said, “she should be able to live another two or three years.” Two or three years, I thought in dismay. That's so little time!
2002年圣诞节前的数周，妈妈抱怨说感到呼吸短促。内科医生让我们去找心脏病专家，然后专家让妈妈去做个超声波心动图。在检查室里，我帮妈妈把她那瘦弱的手臂穿过大大的蓝色纸制罩袍的袖口。她看起来如此的瘦小和虚弱。我想知道，她什么时候变得这么老了？妈妈有充血性心力衰竭。她不适合做心脏瓣膜置换手术。心脏病专家说：“但配合适当的药物治疗，她可以再活两三年。”两年或三年，我沮丧地想。多么短的时间啊！
Each morning I peeked through the blinds of Mom's back door and watched her tiny shoulders and chest rise and fall as she slept. How I dreaded the morning that I would find that she wasn't moving. Daily I 29)braced myself for that moment, knowing it had to come. I told myself it would be a 30)blessing if Mom could simply die peacefully in her sleep. Yet I dreaded it. But what was it I dreaded? Her death? Or that sense of being dissimilar that I was still trying to shake?
每天早晨，透过母亲后门的百叶窗，我看着她纤细的肩膀和睡着时胸部的起伏。我多么惧怕某天早晨我会发现她不动了。我知道那天必然来临，因此我每天都为那一刻做好准备。我告诉自己，如果妈妈可以在睡梦中平静地离开，那将会是一种福祉。然而，我感到恐惧。我在恐惧什么？她的离去？或者是我仍然想要摆脱的不相似感？
On a Monday night in August our family gathered around Mom in her hospital bed. Her grandchildren hugged her goodbye. Mom nodded. She was still with us. Mom's lips moved ever so slightly. I bent my head closer. “Help me,” she whispered. “We're here, Mom,” I squeezed her hand tightly. Her breathing was so slow. “Help me,” she said again. Help you? I looked to my sister and Tom. How could we help her? We'd done everything the doctors said we could. Then, suddenly, I understood. Tears ran down my cheeks. “We're here, Mom. I love you. It's all right.” Her breathing grew 31)shallow. Breaths came farther apart…
八月的一个周一晚上，我们一家人聚集在妈妈的病床边。她的孙子们抱着她，与她告别。妈妈点点头。她仍然和我们在一起。妈妈的嘴唇微微颤动着。我把头靠近她。“帮帮我，”她低声说。“妈妈，我们都在这里，”我紧紧地握着她的手。她的呼吸是如此缓慢。“帮帮我”，她又说了一遍。帮帮你？我望向我的妹妹和汤姆。我们要怎样才能帮助她？我们做了医生告诉我们所能做的一切事情。然后，突然之间，我明白了。泪水顺着我的脸颊滑了下来。“我们都在这里，妈妈。我爱你。一切都好。”她的呼吸变得越来越微弱，越来越远……
Even now, as her soul was leaving us, I felt something incredible. In the space between those final breaths that distance I'd always imagined between my mother and me evaporated until I felt as close to her as I'd ever felt to any human being. Finally there was no breath. Mom was gone. We spent the rest of that night talking and 32)reminiscing about Mom. Later as I was falling asleep I thought about how different I'd felt from her when I was young. But now something unexpected and spontaneous crept into my mind. Tomorrow I would go to one of the sales that Mom so loved and shop for just the right dress to wear to her funeral—all afternoon, if necessary.
哪怕是现在，她的灵魂离开了我们，我仍然觉得有些事情难以置信。在那最后的几声呼吸里，我一直想象的存在于我与母亲之间的那段距离消失了，我感觉与她像与其他人一样亲近。最后，妈妈停止了呼吸。妈妈走了。那天晚上余下的时间里，我们一起谈论和回忆妈妈。随后，将要入睡时，我回想起自己年轻的时候对妈妈的看法与现在是多么不同。但是现在，一些意想不到的想法自然而然地出现在我脑海。明天我会去妈妈最爱去的特卖会，买一件适合参加她葬礼的衣服——如果有必要的话，我会花上一整个下午。
