镜子背后 第3期

When I was a little girl, we lived in New York City just down the block from my grandparents. Every evening my grandfather would go for his constitutional, and sometimes I would join him.

One evening when grandpa and I went for our walk, I asked how things were different when he was a little boy. He told me about outhouses instead of flush toilets, horses instead of cars, letters instead of telephones, and candles instead of electric lights. While he told me all the wonderful things I had never thought of, my little mind wandered. Then I asked him, “Grandpa, what was the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life?”

Grandpa stopped walking, stared at the horizon, and said nothing for a minute or so. Then he knelt down, took my hands, and with tears in his eyes began to speak:

“When your mom and her brothers were little children, grandma got very sick and in order to get well, she had to go to a place called a sanitarium for a long time. I had no one to take care of your mom and uncles while I worked, so they went to an orphanage. The nuns took care of them for me while I worked two and three jobs to get your grandma well and everyone home again.”

“The hardest thing I ever had to do was put them in there. I went every week to see them, but the nuns wouldn’t let me talk to them or hold them. I watched the three of them play from behind a one-way mirror. I brought them sweets every week, hoping they knew it was from me. I would keep both hands on the glass, hoping they would come and touch my hand.”

“I went a whole year without touching my children. I missed them very much. But I know it was a harder year for them. I will never forgive myself for not making the nuns let me hold them. But they said it would do them more harm than good and that they would have even more trouble living there. So I listened.”

I had never see my grandfather cry before. He held me close, and I told him I had the best grandfather ever and I loved him.

Fifteen years went by, and I never talked about that one special walk with grandpa. We continued our walks for years, until my family and grandparents moved to separate states.

After my grandmother passed away, my grandfather experienced periods of depression. I begged my mother to invite grandpa to come and live with us, but she refused.

I kept harping, “It’s our duty as a family to figure out what is best for him.

In a fit of rage, she snapped, “Why? He never cared about what happended to us!”

I knew what she was talking about. “He has always cared about and loved you,” I said. My mother replied,“You don’t know what you’ve talking about!”

“The hardest thing he ever did was put you and Uncles Eddie and Kevin in the orphanage.”“Who told you about that ?” she asked.

My mother had never discussed her days there with us.

“Mom, he came every week to see the three of you. He used to watch you play from behind the one-way mirror. He brought you sweets every time he visited. He never missed a week. He hated not being able to hold you for that year!”

“You’ve lying! He was never there. No one ever came to see us.”

“How would I know about the visits if he didn’t tell me? How would I know about the sweets he brought? He was there. He was always there. But the nuns wouldn’t let him be in the room with you, because they said it would be too hard when he had to leave. Mom, grandpa loves you, and he always has!”

Grandpa assumed that his children knew he was there behind the glass, but because they had not felt the warmth and strength of his arms, he thought they had forgotten his visits. Meanwhile, my mother and her brothers assumed grandpa had never come to visit. Telling my mother the truth changed her relationship with grandpa. She learned that her father had always loved her, and grandpa came to live with us for the rest of his life.

当我还是一个小女孩的时候，我们家住在纽约市里，和外公外婆家只相隔一个街区。外公每天晚上都会出去散步锻炼身体，有时我也会跟着他去。

一天晚上，我和外公像往常一样去散步，我问起他小时候的生活是怎样的。他告诉我，那时候没有抽水马桶，人们要到户外上厕所；没有汽车，人们外出都要骑马；没有电话，人们靠写信保持联系；没有电灯，人们都使用蜡烛。听着这些我从没想过的新鲜事情，我不禁浮想联翩。过了一会，我问他：“外公，你一生中做过的最艰难的事情是什么？”

外公停住脚步，眼睛望着远方，一句话也没说，就这样过了好一会儿。之后，他弯下腰，握着我的手，含着眼泪对我说：

“你妈妈和你的两个舅舅还很小的时候，外婆病得很严重。为了治好外婆的病，她必须去一个叫疗养院的地方养病一段很长的时间。我工作的时候就没人照顾你妈妈和你的舅舅们，所以我只好把他们送到一个孤儿院，让那里的修女帮我照顾他们。我做着两三份工作，以便早点把外婆和你妈妈他们接回家。”

“我一生中最艰难的事情就是把他们留在孤儿院。每个星期我都去看他们，可是修女不让我跟他们说话，也不让我抱他们。我只能在一面单面透视镜后面看着他们三个玩耍。每个星期我都给他们带一些糖果，希望他们知道这是我买给他们的。我把两只手放在镜子上，盼着他们跑过来触摸我的手。”

“就这样过了一整年，我没有抱过我的孩子，我很想念他们。不过我知道这种日子对他们来说更加艰难。我无法原谅我自己没有说服修女让我去抱他们。她们说那样对小孩产生的负面影响会更大，令他们更难适应在孤儿院的生活。为了孩子，我只好听她们的。”

我从没见外公流过泪。他紧紧地抱着我，我告诉他，他是世界上最好的外公，我爱我的外公。

十五年过去了，我从没跟别人提起那次和外公特别的散步。我们坚持散步了很多年，直到我们和外公外婆搬到不同的州居住。

外婆去世后，外公有一段时间很消沉。我请求妈妈接外公过来和我们一起住，但是她拒绝了。

于是我在她身边不停地说：“作为亲人我们有责任帮他安排最好的生活。”

妈妈勃然大怒，她厉声说道：“凭什么？他根本就不在乎我们发生了什么事！”

我明白她的意思。“他一直都很在乎你，爱你。”我说。妈妈答道：“你根本就不知道发生了什么事！”

“最令他痛苦的事情就是把你、埃迪舅舅和凯文舅舅送到孤儿院。” “谁告诉你的？”妈妈问道。

妈妈从来没有跟我们提起她在那里的生活。

“妈妈，外公每个星期都会去看你们三个。他站在镜子后面看你们玩，他每次去还给你们带糖果。他一个星期都没落下。他至今还为那一年没有抱过你们耿耿于怀！”

“你撒谎！他从来没去过那里。没有一个人去看过我们。”

“如果外公没跟我说过，我怎么会知道呢？我又怎么知道他给你们带了糖果？他在那里，他每次都在那里。只是修女不让他和你们见面，因为这样一来分别的场景会令大家都很难受。妈妈，外公是爱你的，一直以来都是如此！”

外公一直以为他的三个孩子知道他在镜子后面，但是由于他们感受不到他温暖有力的臂膀，他以为孩子们已经忘记了这件事情。而妈妈和她的两个弟弟却以为外公从来没有去看望他们。我把这件事情告诉妈妈，改变了她和外公的关系。她明白到原来她的父亲是一直爱着她的。她把外公接来和我们一起住，让他安度余生。