My husband is a labor lawyer, his days consumed with pandemic-collapsed businesses and workers losing their paychecks. During the outdoor walks we are still permitted to take, we keep reminding each other to notice spring poppies as we distance-veer back and forth, alert to the sound of the phones in our pockets. His sister might be calling, or my brothers, our son, our cousins, our oldest friends. Even on duty, the paramedic daughter checks in occasionally, from the ambulance, between hospital runs.
我丈夫是勞工律師,他的生活里充滿因疫情倒閉的企業(yè)以及丟掉飯碗的勞工。在我們進行著仍被允許的戶外散步時,我們不斷變換位置,保持一前一后的距離,同時提醒彼此要欣賞春天的罌粟,并留意著口袋里手機的聲音。我丈夫的妹妹可能會打來,或者我的弟弟們、我們的兒子、表親、我們的老朋友。身為護理人員的女兒,即使在值班,偶爾也會在來回醫(yī)院的途中,從救護車上打來報平安。
The mission is reassurance. We all understand that. She hits the FaceTime prompt, if the signal is good enough. During one of the calls, she smiles at us from the little screen and reminds us how we used to assume she would one day take a temporary posting someplace far away and tough, a war zone or a desert refugee camp.
重點是讓彼此放心。我們都懂這一點。如果信號夠好,她會接起FaceTime的視頻電話。在一次通話中,她從小屏幕上對我們微笑,并說起從前我們猜想她總有一天會被臨時派駐到某個遙遠且環(huán)境惡劣的地方,例如戰(zhàn)地或沙漠里的難民營。
"All we have to do is pretend that's where I am," she says. "And look how lucky we are. With these technological devices, we can see each other from opposite sides of the world." So we have that, for now, for as long as it takes. We will cherish it. We will make it be enough.
“我們要做的就是假裝我人在那里,”她說。“然后看看我們有多幸運。多虧這些科技設備,我們就能從世界的兩端看見彼此?!彼晕覀兛梢赃@么做,無論只是短暫的,或是直到疫情結束為止。我們會珍惜。我們會知足。