愛駐我心 第28期:愛如鮮花盛開

I was nine when my father first sent me flowers.

我九歲那年，父親第一次送花給我。

I had been taking tap-dancing lessons for six months, and the school was giving its yearly recital.

當(dāng)時(shí)，我加入學(xué)校踢踏舞班才六個(gè)月，正逢學(xué)校舉辦一年一度的演出。

As an excited member of the beginners’ chorus line, I was aware of my lowly status.

我只能加入新學(xué)員合唱隊(duì)，卻依然興致勃勃，不過我清楚自己只是個(gè)不起眼的小角色。

So it was a surprise to have my name called out at the end of the show along with the lead dancers and to find my arms full of long-stemmed red roses.

令人驚喜的是，演出一結(jié)束，我竟被叫到前臺(tái)，雙手捧著一束枝繁葉茂的紅玫瑰與主舞的演員站在一起。

I can still feel myself standing on that stage, blushing furiously and gazing over the footlights to see my father’s grin as he applauded loudly.

我至今還感到自己像是站在舞臺(tái)上，雙頰緋紅，我越過絢麗的腳燈光線向下張望，看見父親的笑臉。

Those roses were the first in a series of large bouquets that accompanied all the milestones in my life.

他一面使勁地鼓掌，一面快活地笑著。 這束鮮花是第一束，往后，每逢我人生的一個(gè)里程碑，父親都要送我一大束鮮花。

They brought a sense of embarrassment.

可我的心情總是有些矛盾。

I enjoyed them, but was flustered by the extravagance.

既高興，又有些尷尬。我喜愛鮮花，可又為這種奢侈而不安。

Not my father.

父親卻從不會(huì)覺得不安。

He did everything in a big way.

他做什么事都特別大方。

If you sent him to the bakery for a cake, he came back with three.

如果你讓他去面包房買一塊蛋糕，他一定會(huì)買回來三塊。

Once, when Mother told him I needed a new party dress, he brought home a dozen.

一次，母親對(duì)他說我需要一件新的派對(duì)禮服，他竟買回來一打。

His behavior often left us without funds for other more important things.

他的做法總是讓我們沒有錢再去添置其他更需要的東西。

After the dress incident, there was no money for the winter coat I really needed or the new ice skates I wanted.

那次禮服事件后，家里就再也沒錢去買我真正急需的冬大衣，或者我一直向往的新溜冰鞋。

Sometimes I would be angry with him, but not for long.

有時(shí)我會(huì)為這些事跟父親賭氣，但時(shí)間都不會(huì)長(zhǎng)。

Inevitably he would buy me something to make up with me.

他照例會(huì)買些禮物與我和好。

The gift was so apparently an offering of love he could not verbalize that I would throw my arms around him and kiss him—an act that undoubtedly perpetuated his behavior.

這些禮物如此真切地傳達(dá)著他不善用言辭表達(dá)的愛，這時(shí)，我便會(huì)摟住他，親吻他，這親昵的行為，無疑會(huì)使他再度大方。

Then came my 16th birthday.

之后迎來了我16歲生日。

It was not a happy occasion.

可這并不是個(gè)快樂的時(shí)刻。

I was fat and had no boyfriend.

我長(zhǎng)得很胖，還沒有男朋友。

And my well-meaning parents furthered my misery by giving me a party.

好心的父母為我準(zhǔn)備了生日晚會(huì)，可這更讓我覺得痛苦。

As I entered the dining room, there on the table next to my cake was a huge bouquet of flowers, bigger than any before.

我走進(jìn)餐廳，看見餐桌上生日蛋糕旁邊，擺著很大一束鮮花，比以往的任何一束都要大。

I wanted to hide.

我真想躲起來。

Now everyone would think my father had sent flowers because I had no boyfriend to do it.

現(xiàn)在誰都會(huì)以為我沒有男朋友送花，只好由父親來送了。

Sweet 16, and I felt like crying.

16歲該是最美好的，而我卻只想哭。

I probably would have, but my best friend, Phyllis, whispered, “Boy, you’re lucky to have a father like that.”

或許當(dāng)時(shí)我的確哭了，但我最好的朋友，菲利斯，在我耳邊小聲說：“嘿，孩子，你有這樣的父親可真幸運(yùn)。”

As the years passed, other occasion—birthdays, recitals, awards, graduations were marked with Dad’s flowers.

隨著光陰的流逝，許多特別的日子——生日、演出、獲獎(jiǎng)、畢業(yè)——都會(huì)伴有父親的鮮花。

My emotions continued to seesaw between pleasure and embarrassment.”

我的心情也依然在快樂與尷尬之間徘徊不定。

When I graduated from college, though, my days of ambivalence were over.

可我從大學(xué)畢業(yè)時(shí)，那種矛盾的心情消失了。

I was embarking on a new career and was engaged to be married.

我開始了新的事業(yè)，也訂了婚。

Dad’s flowers symbolized his pride, and my triumph.

父親的鮮花代表了他的驕傲和我的勝利。

They evoked only great pleasure.

它們帶來的只有極大的喜悅。

Now there were bright-orange mums for Thanksgiving and a huge pink poinsettia at Christmas.

后來，每逢感恩節(jié)，我們都會(huì)收到父親的一捧黃燦燦的菊花;圣誕節(jié)會(huì)有一大束粉紅的一品紅。

White lilies at Easter, and velvety red roses for birthdays.

復(fù)活節(jié)是潔白的百合花;生日里會(huì)有天鵝絨般的紅玫瑰。

Seasonal flowers in mixed bouquets celebrated the births of my children and the move to our first house.

孩子出世或逢喬遷之喜，父親會(huì)送來那個(gè)季節(jié)里盛開的許多種鮮花混合扎成的花束。

As my fortunes grew, my father’s waned, but his gifts of flowers continued until he died of heart attack a few months before his 70th birthday.

隨著我不斷功成名就，父親日漸衰老，但他依然堅(jiān)持給我送花，直到他70歲生日的前幾個(gè)月，因心臟病發(fā)作而猝然逝去。

Without embarrassment, I covered his coffin with the largest, reddest roses I could find.

我在他的棺木上鋪滿了我所能尋得的最大的紅玫瑰，而且，沒有一絲窘迫。

Often in the dozen years since, I felt an urge to go out and buy a big bouquet to fill the living room, but I never did.

在以后的十幾年里，我常常有一股沖動(dòng)，想去買一大束鮮花裝點(diǎn)起居室，可我始終沒去。

I knew it would not be the same.

我知道，即便買來，花已不是從前的花了。

Then one birthday, the doorbell rang.

后來我生日的一天，我聽見門鈴響了。

I was feeling blue because I was alone.

那天，我本來很沮喪，因?yàn)橹挥形掖诩抑小?/p>

My husband was playing golf, and my two daughters were away.

丈夫打高爾夫球去了，兩個(gè)女兒出遠(yuǎn)門了。

My 13-year-old son, Matt, had run out earlier with a “see you later”, never mentioning my birthday.

13歲的兒子馬特也走得格外早，只道了聲“再見”，只字未提我的生日。

So I was surprised to see his large frame at the door.

所以我開門看見馬特胖胖的身體站在門邊時(shí)，有幾分驚訝。

“Forgot my key,” he said, shrugging. “Forgot your birthday too. Well, I hope you like flowers, Mum.”

“忘帶鑰匙了，”他聳聳肩，說道，“也忘了今天是你生日。嗯，我希望你喜歡這些鮮花，媽媽。”

He pulled a bunch of daisies from behind his back.

說著，他從身后抽出一束雛菊。

“Oh, Matt,” I cried, hugging him hard, “I love flowers!”

“哦，馬特，”我大叫一聲，緊緊摟住他，“我愛鮮花!”