感受一位母親的愛

At 17， I knew one thing for certain: I didn’t want to be like my mother. I longed for normal and dependable[可靠的]-and that wasn’t her. She didn’t cook or clean; her main ambition was to enjoy her friends， her family and her life. When she was afraid to be alone after my father left， I slept on the floor in her room. When she went to doctors’ appointments， I went with her， acting as her confidante[知己]. My friends thought I was lucky: in my house there were no rules and no chores. My mother loved rock music， shopping， concerts-but she was more like my friend than my vision of what a mother should be. And though I loved that she stood with me outside hotels where my favorite bands were staying and took me to plays and museums， there was a downside[反面] to all that fun: unruly[不受拘束的] dogs sleeping on the couches; pizza boxes in the kitchen; no clean towels; and no food in the fridge. Sometimes I felt angry and resentful[怨恨的]. I wanted a normal “real” mother-and that didn’t seem to be what I got with my mother.

At 21， I went off to graduate school in California. I was busy becoming the person I wanted to be—the woman who was nothing like my mother. I was always the student who did extra work and got straight A’s. But one Saturday as I was at home in my neat apartment， I suddenly realized I was missing something—FUN. I wasn’t happy with the“normal”life I created for myself. Sure， I was successful and lived in an orderly[整齊的] way. But all of a sudden， I wished that I lived somewhere that was messy[凌亂的] and interesting again， where my roommates and I didn’t spend Sunday afternoons cleaning the bathroom. I actually missed my mother—and all of the adventures we had together.

As I thought even more about the life I made for myself， I realized something else: My new friends were rigid[剛硬的] and not always there for me. They often weren’t around to see a concert I was dying to go to or help me with a problem. The only person who had always been there for me and been on my side was…my mom. She never told me my skirts were too short， or that I wore too much makeup， or that I was dating the wrong boy. I had wanted my mother to be something completely different than she was—but she had let me be myself. There was no battle that my mom wouldn’t fight for me. She supported my dream of becoming a writer when others thought it was foolish. She was a fan of dreams， so she was a fan of my dreams. She may not have cleaned the house or done the laundry[洗衣]， she may have forgotten dinner—but she had believed in me.

As my mother battled several strokes[中風] and breast cancer[乳腺癌] a few years ago， she remained my No.1 fan. And just as important， she continued to enjoy life. Even on the day she passed away， she had a date with a friend to go to the movies. She was very brave and courageous. No matter what， she kept having fun. Looking back， it’s clear to me that all the qualities in my mother that I resented the most were the ones I ended up admiring the most. Unfortunately， it had taken our whole lives for me to fully understand what should have been evident[明顯的] from the beginning.

My mother went from the person who I never wanted to talk to again to the one I miss more than anyone else. Now she’s gone. Today I wish I had more of my mother’s sense of fun and adventure. But I will always be grateful for what she did give me: one person in this world who， no matter what， was always on my side.

17歲時，我便對一件事情非常確定，那就是我不想變得像媽媽那樣。我希望自己成為正常可靠的人——而那并不是她的特點。我媽媽不做飯也不打掃房間，她最大的抱負就是享受友誼，享受家庭及她的生活。當爸爸離開后，她害怕獨處，我便睡在她房間的地板上。當她預約了見醫生，我便和她一起去，就好像是她的知己密友。我的朋友覺得我很幸運——因為在我家里沒有家規也不用做家務。媽媽喜愛搖滾音樂、逛街購物和聽演唱會，但她更像是我的朋友，而不是我想象中的媽媽。雖然我喜歡她跟我一起站在我最喜愛的樂隊入住的酒店外，也喜歡她帶我去看戲劇和逛博物館，但所有這些樂趣都不能彌補其缺點——不受管教的小狗睡在沙發上，廚房里放著比薩餅盒子，沒有干凈的毛巾，冰箱里沒有食物。有時候我會感到生氣和怨恨。我想要一個正常的“真”媽媽——而這好像并不是我媽媽所擁有的特質。

21歲時，我去加利福尼亞州讀碩士課程。我成了個大忙人，這正是我想要的——一個一點都不像媽媽的女人。我總是很勤奮，做許多額外作業，成績名列前茅。但某個周末，當我呆在自己整潔的宿舍里，我忽然發覺自己錯過了某樣東西——樂趣。對于自己所創造的“正常”生活，我并不感到高興。當然，我很成功，擁有井井有條的生活。但在一剎那間，我希望自己能住進一個雜亂無章的地方，再次感受樂趣，一處我的室友和我不用在每個星期天下午打掃洗手間的地方。事實上，我很想念媽媽——還有我們一起嘗試過的所有冒險經歷。

當我對自己所創造的生活想得更多時，我便發覺到另外一點——我的新朋友都較獨立，不會總在我身旁。他們不常在我身旁陪我看盼望已久的演唱會，或者幫助我解決問題。只有一個人總在我身旁并時刻支持我，那就是……我的媽媽。她從來不會說，我的裙子太短，或我化的妝太濃，或我約會的男孩不適合我。我曾希望媽媽會成為與她本人完全不同的人——但她讓我做我自己。媽媽不會放過任何支持我的機會。她支持我實現成為作家的夢想，當時其他人都覺得這個想法很愚蠢。她是夢想的支持者，因此她是我夢想的支持者。她或許沒有打掃房子或洗衣服，甚至可能忘記做飯——但她一直信任我。 幾年前，盡管我媽媽與中風和乳腺癌抗爭了幾趟，她仍然是我的頭號擁躉。同樣重要的是，她繼續享受生活。即使在她臨終的那天，她還跟一個朋友相約去看電影。她非常堅強，而且膽量過人。無論發生什么事情，她總會尋找樂趣。回想起來，我很清晰地看到在我媽媽身上所有特質中，最令我怨恨的最終都變成了令我最為佩服的。不幸的是，我花了一生的時間才完全明白這件從一開始便顯而易見的事情。

我媽媽從一個我再也不想跟她談話的人變成了我最想念的人。現在她走了。如今，我希望自己能擁有更多媽媽的幽默感與冒險勇氣。但我將永遠感激她給予我的東西——在這世上，無論發生什么事情，她永遠是支持我的人。