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透過(guò)母親的眼睛英語(yǔ)美文
Through My Mother"s Eyes
My daughter, do you have any idea of the fears that haunt me? One is that I"ll no longer be needed. Another is that I"ll become a burden. I break out in a cold sweat when I think about having a stroke or an accident when I"m alone. This worry is alleviated somewhat by wearing my Lifeline Help Button that connects me with a hospital emergency room, but what if I couldn"t press that button?
I live in terror that I might have some kind of lingering illness. And this fear flows into another fear - such an illness could wipe out my savings, destroying my very last shred of independence.
Do you realize how much of my precious freedom I"ve lost? Consider, if you will, having to depend on someone to take you to church, the market, everywhere. Once I was master of my own transportation. I could go anywhere I wanted, anytime. In our society, the automobile is an arm of independence. For me, old age amputated that arm.
I know my elimination reports bore you at times, but at my age when my body lets me know it is cooperating, I like to share the news. Another accomplishment in another seemingly insignificant day.
Octogenarians are proud of any accomplishments. And one in which I take great pride is that I"ve conquered city living, and in my own apartment to boot. When you moved me here years ago, it wasn"t easy to leave the small town that had been my home for almost my entire life. But I adapted. Yet sometimes the longing to be back in my hometown brings tears to my eyes.
But then sundry things cause me to weep these days. Some of the tears you don"t see, like when I remember the two husbands I outlived. Or the tears I shed when staring at my one-sided flatness where a few years ago there was a breast. When I contemplate the chance I might someday face the cancer monster again, extra tears well up.
More often than not my emotions erupt with the hormonal spontaneity of a teenage girl. But at least emotions prove I still care, I still hurt, I still love. Emotions prove I"m alive even though my life has taken some bizarre turns. One example is that I"ve lost my adult status. Yet no matter how many motherly duties you may perform for me, I"ll never be a complete child of yours in the same way you were mine.
Although I"m deeply grateful that I have you to help me, I cringe each time you"re forced to take over another of my tasks, such as balancing my bank account. I"m angry that I can no longer do it myself. I could tear that bank statement to shreds when I remember all my excellent office skills during those many years I worked. Perhaps if you"ll now try working an algebraic problem (since algebra was never your favorite subject), you"ll understand how I feel.
It"s not only the bank account. You"ve taken over Medicare and insurance forms also. And now you must dispense my medicines, too. Over and over, day by day, I"m rendered more helpless. For every chore relinquished, old age claims another little chunk of me, making me fear the day I will be completely dependent.
Therefore, so long as I have a wee scrap of independence left, may I offer some loving advice to you, my daughter?
Don"t fret when I eat a food not included in my medical diet. I know as well as you that it"s wrong, but some pleasures are worth the sacrifice. To sneak a forbidden bite of a favorite food is just about the only adventure left in my life.
Try not to criticize me for what you see as clutter. While you choose to put things away, I find it convenient to leave them out, saving me steps and energy.
Show patience with my physical slowness. A quick step for you can be a slow painful one for me. Pain is my Siamese twin.
Let me talk, if I choose, about the past. Compared to the limited future, it"s often more comforting to remember what has gone before instead. And if in the process of reminiscing, I repeat myself, try to overlook it.
Everybody forgets sometimes, even you. Grant me the same human frailty.
Forgetfulness doesn"t always mean senility.
Let me complain about the weather. Realize that for me there"s no perfect climate control. My personal thermostat responds to allergies, thinning blood, and aching joints.
Please don"t push your way on me too much. Your way may not always be best for me. I"m not even sure efficiency is all that important anyway. A jumbled grocery list isn"t the end of the world.
When people address you concerning my requests, bypassing me entirely, stand up for me. I still have a brain, as well as the ability to speak for myself.
I don"t like to whine, but please spend as much time with me as you can. I love you, and I enjoy being with you. Contrary to what you might think, I"m aware of the toll all this responsibility has taken on you. It shows in your face. To take on the parental task of caring for an elderly child is to look in a mirror and see your own mortality. I can"t help being a constant reminder of your future. And I know all the devilish challenges you"ll face.
Now for my most important piece of advice, which is experience-borne. Strive to grow old with courage. I pray that in the future you may know more of the joys of old age than I and less of the trials. And may you always have someone like you, someone who cares. (：夏根建)
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