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最好的爱
荷叶/译
我有一个朋友恋爱了，她诚实地宣称天空更蓝，莫扎特的乐曲使她落泪，她减掉十五磅，看上去像封面女郎。
“我又年轻了！”她活力四射地喊道。
当我的朋友热情洋溢地谈论她的新欢时，我回顾了一下自己的旧爱。与我几乎生活了二十年的丈夫司格特，长了十五磅肉。曾经是一个马拉松健将，现在只能在医院走廊中跑。他的发际开始后移，身体也显出了长时工作和吃太多糖果的迹象。然而他在餐馆桌旁的一个眼神，仍能使我想去结账,并和他回家。
当朋友问我“怎样才能爱得持久？”时，我迅速盘点了一下显而易见的理由：承诺，共同兴趣，身体相吸，交流。然而这还不够。我们之间还有乐趣，不是刻意安排的美好时光。昨天，我把橡皮筋从报纸卷里抽出，司格特顽皮地轻抛过来，一场全力以赴的大战拉开序幕。上周六在杂货店里，我俩分摊了账单，跑着去结账，看谁先到收银台。即使刷碗都是一件非常开心的事。我们就是喜欢在一起。
还有惊喜。一次我回家发现前门有一张纸条，这张纸条引我到下一张，接下来又一张，一直引我到小贮藏室。打开门一看，里面是手捧金盅（饭锅）和财宝（礼盒）的司格特。有时我把给他的便条贴在镜子上，把给他的礼物藏在枕头下。
还有理解。我明白他为什么一定要和伙伴们去打篮球。他也明白我为什么要一年一次离开家，离开孩子，甚至离开他，去见我的姐妹们，和她们不间断地说笑几天。
还有分担责任分享快乐。我们不仅分担家庭的烦恼，共同赡养父母，我们还交流观点。上个月，司格特开完一个大会回家，他带给我一本厚厚的历史小说。虽然他更喜欢看惊恐片和科幻小说，他还是在飞机上读了这部小说。当他解释这是为了在我读后，能与我交流里面的观点时，我很感动。
还有宽恕。当我在聚会上疯狂吵闹令人难堪时，司格特总能原谅我。当他坦诚地告诉我他在股票市场，损失了我们的部分积蓄时，我抱他一下，说：“没什么，不过损失点钱而已。”
还有敏感。上周他进门的表情告诉我，这一天他过得很艰难。和孩子们玩了一会儿后，我问他发生了什么。他说一个六十岁的女人患了中风。当他回忆到女人的丈夫站在床边，抚摸着她的手时，司格特哭了。他怎样向一个结婚四十年的丈夫宣布他妻子可能永远也不能恢复呢？我也洒了几滴热泪。这是为了目前的医疗危机，为了还有婚龄四十年的人，为了我丈夫在病房面对垂死的病人多年后，还能感动，还能关心。
还有信心。上周二，一个朋友过来，她承认害怕丈夫会失去与癌症斗争的勇气。周三，我与一个离婚后努力重组生活的朋友共进午餐。周四，一个朋友打电话诉说老年性痴呆对她公公性格的可怕影响。周五，一个发小打长途告诉我她父亲去世的消息。我挂断电话想，这一周伤心事太多了。泪眼婆娑，我出去办事。我注意到窗前剑兰桔黄色花朵正在怒放。我听到儿子和他朋友玩耍时的欢笑声。我看见一支婚礼队伍正从邻居家走出，新娘子身穿白缎蕾丝，正把花束抛向鼓掌的朋友们。那晚，我把这一切讲给丈夫听。我们相帮着认识到生命是周而复始的，快乐总能取代悲伤。这足以使我们一路向前。
最后是心照不宣。我知道每晚他羞于往回提脏衣服而把它们扔掉；多数约会他都迟到；他会吃掉盒里最后一颗巧克力。他知道我睡觉时把枕头盖在头上；我会经常性地把我俩锁在屋外。我也会吃掉最后一颗巧克力。
我认为爱情能持久是因为舒服。不，我的天空没有变蓝，它依然是熟悉的色彩。我没有感觉到特别年轻。我们经历的太多太多，这使我们成长了，智慧了，影响了我们的身体，创造了我们的记忆。
我希望我找到了让爱情持久的真谛。做新娘时，我把布朗宁的一句名言镌刻在司格特给我的婚戒上：“和我一起变老”我们一直在践行这句话。
“如果有什么是真的话，心灵都会使它朴素无华。”
附：原文
The Best Kind of Love I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl. "I’m young again!” she shouts exuberantly. As my friend raves on about her new love, I’ve taken a good look at my old one. My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home. When my friend asked me “What will make this love last?” I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. Yet there’s more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together. And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a “pot of gold” (my cooking kettle) and the “treasure” of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow. There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids -and even him -to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing. There is sharing. Not only do we share household worries and parental burdens － we also share ideas. Scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. Though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. He touched my heart when he explained it was because he wanted to be able to exchange ideas about the book after I’d read it. There is forgiveness. When I’m embarrasssingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, “It’s okay. It’s only money.” There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it’s been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year-old woman who’d had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman’s husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis. Because there were still people who have been married 40 years. Because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients. There is faith. Last Tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. On Wednesday I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. On Thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of Alzheimer’s disease on her father-in-law’s personality. On Friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. I hung up the phone and thought, this is too much heartache for one week. Through my tears, as I went out to run some errands, I noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. I heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. I caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor’s house. The bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. That night, I told my husband about these events. We helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. It was enough to keep us going. Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he’ll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows that I sleep with a pillow over my head; I’ll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate. I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer: it’s just a familiar hue. We don’t feel particularly young: we’ve experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories. I hope we’ve got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott’s wedding band engraved with Robert Browning’s line “Grow old along with me!” We’re following those instructions. “If anything is real, the heart will make it plain.” | 
发表于 2013-9-25 10:14:42
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