妈妈,谢谢您不够爱我

College 1)loomed four weeks ahead, gathering weight in the 2)humid summer air.

“Where have you been?” she asked with a slight edge of 3)annoyance.

“At home. Just hanging out.” She knew exactly where I had been.

“Yeah. About that. How did you know?”Her baiting skills were 4)legendary.

“Know about what?” I bit.

She narrowed her eyes and 5)jut out her lower jaw. I was going to make her say it. “How did you know that spending time at home before we leave was the right thing to do? You know, instead of hanging out with us every night. I feel like I’ve wasted my time. Your point, I’m sure.”

Four years of exposure to my need to be right was showing its silvery scars.

“My mom loves my dad more than she loves us. She told me as much. That’s how I know what memories will be more important years from now.”

Four years of exposure to her baiting skills had made me a master.

I don’t remember when my mom first told me that she loved our dad more than she loved my brother and me. She did only tell me once, but it bears the same uncomfortable 6)tint as when she used herself and my dad as

examples during “the talk” when I was eleven or twelve.

I was shocked. Offended. My mom loving my dad more than her own children was surely a crime against nature. I immediately felt 7)disposable. And infinitely more independent.

She didn’t even rush with her explanation. “I have to love your dad more than you guys. I’m stuck with him forever. You and your brother are going to leave one day. You should. I’m in it with your dad for the rest of my life. He has to be the most important person to me. Of course I love you. But after you leave, it’s just me and your dad. You’ll have your own life. My life is with him.”

The lesson that emerged for me, other than the lesson that my parents’ world did not revolve around me as I had hoped, was in perspective.

From that moment forward, I would weigh my decisions against outcomes measured in years, not days. “Will this matter a year from now? Five years from now? Ten?” would take the sting out of countless 8)complicated events. Instinctive overreactions would be 9)tempered by a deliberate willingness to see beyond what was right in front of me at that moment, as my mother had looked beyond the years of a full nest.

In the summer of 1995, I chose to spend significantly more time with my parents than with my friends because I knew that of the two, my relationship with my parents was the foundation that would bear more weight in the 10)precarious years ahead.

A strong foundation that would prove vital to enduring a challenging freshman year at college a state away. Not to mention years of challenges in a life well-led.

I didn’t go home very frequently that first year at college, the last thing I said to my mom before she left my dorm room that big moving day was,“OK, y’all get going. I can handle this from here.”

“Thank you. I love you.” I knew exactly what I wanted to say to my mom the first time I saw her again.

“Thank you, Mom. I’m so glad I had the sense to spend the summer at home. I needed that reserve.”

大学还有四周就要开学了，日子在潮湿的夏日气息中慢慢逼近。

“你上哪儿去了？”她带着一点厌恶的神色问道。

“在家。就是到处晃悠一下。”她明知我上哪儿去的。

“嗯。那个。你是怎么想通的？”她抛砖引玉的技巧具有传奇色彩。

“想通什么？”我上钩了。

她眯起眼睛，伸出下颌。我要让她自己说出这样的话。“你怎么会想明白在我们离开之前花点时间在家是正确的事？你知道，可不是说每天晚上和我们待一起。我觉得我浪费了时间。你是这么想的，我敢肯定。”

四年来我都显示出自己需要做正确的事，这一点毫不新鲜。

“我妈妈爱我的爸爸多过爱我们。她这么跟我说。所以我才明白到从现在起的许多年后什么回忆才更重要。”

四年来她抛砖引玉的本事表露无遗，对此我早已驾轻就熟。

我记不得妈妈第一次跟我说她爱我们的爸爸多过她爱我和我的兄弟是什么时候。她只是这么跟我说过一次，但那感觉太难受了，就跟她在我十一二岁给我训话时引用她自己和我爸爸作为例子一样。

我很震惊，觉得很受伤。我妈妈爱我爸爸多过她自己的孩子――这一点当然是违反自然规律的一种罪过。我立时觉得自己是可有可无的。同时尽可能地变得更加独立。

她甚至没有急着作出解释。“我必须爱你们的爸爸多过爱你们这些小家伙。我永远都会和他呆在一起。你和你的兄弟终有一日会离家。你们该这样，而我要和你们的爸爸共度余生。对我来说，他必须是最重要的人。当然，我爱你们。但在你们离家之后，就剩下我和你爸爸了。你们将有自己的生活。我的人生是与他维系在一起的。”

展现在我面前的这一课，让我明白到的并不是我父母的世界没有如我所愿围着我转，而是看待事情要客观合理。

那一刻起，我会以“年”――而不是“日”，来对自己的决定及其产生的后果进行衡量。“从现在起，一年后，这还要紧吗？从现在起五年后呢？十年后呢？”在许多复杂的事件面前这种想法会容易让人释然。本能的过度反应会被自发性的深思熟虑所缓和下来，我会看得更远，而不单只考虑当时摆在我面前的什么是正确的，正如我母亲的高瞻远瞩，看破多年后的情况。

1995年的夏天，我选择与父母共度的时光比与朋友们在一起的时间多得多，因为我明白在这两者之间，我与父母的关系是基础，会在我人生之路前面的难以预料的岁月里显得更有分量。

那是一个强大的基础，对于在本州以外的地方度过具挑战性的大一那年，这会显得至关重要。更不用说在获得积极引导的人生中接受挑战的那些年了。

在大学的第一年我没有经常回家，搬到学校那天，在她离开我的宿舍前，我最后跟她说的话是：“好了，你们都走吧。这儿我能应付得来。”

“谢谢您。我爱您。”我十分清楚自己第一次再见到她的时候我想说的话。

“谢谢您，妈妈。我很高兴自己能意识到那个夏天要在家里度过。我需要那份储备。”