【赫临译笔】每一天都是上帝的礼物 - 心云驛站

每一天都是上帝的礼物

姐夫打开姐姐衣柜的最底层抽屉，拿出了一个薄纸包着的东西。他说：“这不是张纸片，是件女式内衣。”他除去包装，把内衣递给我。这件内衣很精致，丝质，手工制作，饰有网状蕾丝花边。天文数字的价签还坠在上面。“这是至少八、九年前，简第一次去纽约时买的。她一次也没穿过，她留着等特殊场合才穿。好了，我想这是个特殊场合。”他从我手里接过内衣放在床上，与其它要送往殡仪馆的衣物放在一起。他的手在柔软的布料上摸索了一会儿，他“呯”地一声关上抽屉，转向我说：“永远也不要把任何东西留给特殊场合，活着的每一天都是个特殊场合。”

姐姐是非正常死亡，整个葬礼以及接下来那些伤心的日子，我帮姐夫和外甥女处理着一些琐事，我在思索着这些话的含义。姐姐一家住在中西部，在我返回加州的飞机上，我仍然在思索。我想到姐姐一生中没有见过，没有听过，没有做过的每一件事情。我还想到姐姐做过，但没有意识到其特殊性的事情。

直到现在我依然思索着这些话，这些话改变了我的生活。我书读得多了，打扫做得少了。我开始坐在甲板上观赏风景而不去担心花园里的杂草。我花更多的时间和家人及朋友在一起，出席委员会会议的次数减少了。任何时候，生活都应该是体验享受，而不是忍受折磨。我开始认识并珍惜现在的时光。

我不再保留任何东西，在每一个特殊场合，比如，我减掉了一磅肉，下水道疏通了，第一朵茶花绽开了，我都会使用最好的瓷器和水晶用品。如果愿意，我穿上运动夹克去购物。我的理论是只要经济条件可以，我会毫不眨眼地花二十八点四九美元买上一小袋副食。我的好香水不用等到参加特殊聚会再用，五金商店的店员以及银行的职员和那些聚会上的朋友有着同样的嗅觉。

“将来某一天”和“总有一天”正在从我的词汇表中淡出。如果一件事值得去看，去听，去做，我会现在就去看，去听，去做。我不能确定假如姐姐知道她将不再有我们认为理所当然的明天，她会做些什么。我想她会给家人和朋友打个电话。也许她会给几个以前的朋友打个电话，向他们道歉，捐弃前嫌，重归旧好。我想她可能去吃顿她最喜欢的中餐|——我永远也不会知道了。

假如我知道自己来日无多，令我恼火的是那些没能做的小事。我会生气，因为拖延了去看那些有朝一日要取得联系的好友。我会生气，因为没有写我打算总有一天会写的信件。我会生气和难过，因为我没有经常告诉丈夫和女儿我真的很爱他们。

我正在努力不再拖延和阻止任何能给我们生活增添欢笑和光彩的事情，也不会保留任何东西。

每天清晨，一睁开眼睛，我就会告诫自己：每一天，每一分钟，每一次呼吸，其实都是来自上帝的礼物。

Every Day is a Gift

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of mysister’s bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," hesaid, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite，silk,handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you’re alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an un expected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister’s family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn’t seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I’m still thinking about his words, and they’ve changed my life. I’m reading more and dusting less. I’m sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I’m spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life shouldbe a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I’m trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I’m not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, thefirst camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it.My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I’m not saving my good perfume for special parties;clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends’.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I’m not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn’t be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I’m guessing--I’ll never know.
It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn’t written certain letters that I intended to write--one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn’t tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.
I’m trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is ... a gift from God.