感恩节重生记

Last Thanksgiving my girlfriend and I flew to Milwaukee1） to spend the long weekend with her parents and sister. Caitlin and I had been dating for over a year and a half， and I felt comfortable enough around her family. But things always got tough for me around the holidays， and it didn’t help that Caitlin’s family was so close， so affectionate， always hugging and teasing2）. Caitlin and I had just moved in together， and her mom—mildly religious and deeply sarcastic3）—had started referring to me as her “sin-in-law.”

I’d told myself this trip was no big deal， but as soon as we set foot in the house I started acting aloof4） and grouchy5）. At the table for the big meal， I could mumble6） only a brusque7）， impersonal thanks for “good food and hospitality.”

“Lame8），” Caitlin’s mom said， calling me out. “Boy， that was truly lame.”

Later， doing the dishes， I dropped a glass Caitlin handed me and started shouting at her. When everyone went out to a movie， I stayed home. I went upstairs to Caitlin’s childhood room， pulled the covers over my head and sobbed.

Thanksgiving is an emigrant’s holiday， first celebrated， legend has it， by the settlers of the Plymouth colony in gratitude to God for their first good harvest. The previous winter， they had lost nearly half their number to starvation and illness. A successful harvest， along with the peaceful participation of the Wampanoag9） Indians in the feast， meant that from that point on the Pilgrims might endure.

Few Americans know that the Mayflower initially embarked not from Plymouth but from Southampton， my birthplace. When I was 7， my family emigrated from southern England to the Midwest， our pilgrimage for a job my dad had landed that， my parents prayed， would finally lift us out of working poverty. We spent our first Thanksgiving with work friends of my dad’s， the Stiers， a brash10） but welcoming couple who plied us with green-bean casserole11）， fried onions， candied yams12） and—most curious—ambrosia13） （which， after a few gooey14） spoonfuls， seemed the very symbol of the giddy15）， stomach-sick feeling of being briskly ushered into a new culture）.

Our friendship with the Stiers ended after they asked my dad to come in on a risky business venture and he refused. But by that time we were versed16） in Thanksgiving ritual. In the kitchen， Dad forwent17） the marshmallow18）-centric sides， substituting favorites from across the pond： roast parsnips19）， toad-in-the-hole20）， and bread sauce. But we weren’t just turning Thanksgiving into a larger version of an English Sunday roast. By choosing to celebrate the holiday—as we came to celebrate the Fourth of July—we were staking21） our claim on this new life， declaring that， despite homesickness and hard winters， we intended to endure and make a permanent settlement.

For the Pilgrims， the trials were long and began even before they reached these shores. Two hundred miles out of port， the Mayflower’s sister ship， the Speedwell， started leaking， and the expedition had to make a stop in Plymouth， England. The Mayflower continued on， burdened with extra passengers； the Speedwell was abandoned.

My family， too， was scuppered22） mid-journey. The summer before I went away to college， my mother was given a diagnosis of terminal brain cancer. When I came home for Thanksgiving， she was so far gone she didn’t even remember my name. At the table， I watched in gut-sick horror as she drooled23） chewed-up turkey and cranberry sauce down her chin. After she died， my father and my younger brother went to war with one another， Dad threatening Rory with military academy and expulsion from the house if he didn’t shape up and quit drinking， smoking weed and staying out all night with friends.

The next two Thanksgivings the three of us came together for the few hours it took to have a meal， but the only words I remember Dad actually addressing to Rory were “pass the bread sauce.” That winter， my brother was killed in a car accident， out with his buddies on their way to a party， and my father， shattered by grief， set to the business of drinking himself to death. Our last Thanksgiving together， just the two of us， he was too wasted24） to eat the meal he’d spent all day preparing.

I spent the next seven holidays in seven different places， most often with friends and their families as an extra guest at their tables， the English guy with the Midwestern accent， the guy without a family of his own.

When Caitlin， her mom， dad and sister got back from the movie， they caught me raiding25） the fridge. I’d crawled out from under the covers with bleary26） eyes and bedhead27）， and they started peppering28） me with jokes. When I looked hurt， Caitlin’s mom gave me a hug and tousled29） my hair. “Come on， kiddo30），” she said， “you’re gonna have to take it like the rest of us.” She was still joking around， but she wasn’t.

That night， lying awake next to Caitlin， I tried to pick apart my feelings.

I was scared of committing， really committing， to this relationship. And I missed Mom， Dad and Rory as achingly as ever. For so many years， Thanksgiving had been something to brave—every year another mark on the wall. But this Thanksgiving， here with Caitlin， wasn’t just one more to endure.

Over the rest of the weekend， I relaxed a little. All that was expected of me， really， was that I eat， drink， joke around. After all， Caitlin’s mom seemed to mother just about everyone she met.

But by the time we all said goodbye at the airport and she kissed me on the cheek and said， “Love ya， kiddo，” I’d recovered enough of my good spirits to realize her “kiddo” wasn’t just a knee-jerk31） nicety. I’d been given a seat at the family table. It was time for me to start calling this new world “home.”

去年感恩节，我和女友凯特琳飞往密尔沃基与她的父母、姐姐共度长周末。我和凯特琳约会已经一年半多了，和她的家人在一起时我觉得很自在。但是每逢节假日，情况于我而言总是变得很棘手。凯特琳的家人之间很亲密，感情融洽，总是互相拥抱和开玩笑，但这对我来说于事无补。我和凯特琳刚刚搬到一起住，她的妈妈——比较虔诚但也极好挖苦人——已开始称我为“负罪的女婿”了。

我告诉自己，这次去她家没什么大不了的，但是一踏进她的家门，我就开始表现得冷漠，一副坏脾气的样子。享用感恩节大餐时，我只嘟囔着说了声谢谢“美味佳肴和盛情款待”，显得既唐突又没人情味。

“言不由衷，”凯特琳的妈妈大声对我说，“噢，这话说得可真言不由衷。”

后来洗盘子时，我失手把凯特琳递给我的一个玻璃杯掉在地上了，于是开始冲她大喊大叫。当所有人都出去看电影时，我待在家里。我跑到楼上凯特琳小时候的房间里，用被子蒙住头，哭了起来。

感恩节是移民的节日，相传最早庆祝这个节日的是普利茅斯殖民地的定居者，庆祝的目的是感激上帝赐予他们的第一次丰收。在前一年冬天，他们中将近一半人死于饥饿和疾病。获得一场大丰收，再加上万帕诺亚格印第安人和平地参加盛宴——这意味着从那一刻起清教徒们也许可以撑下去了。

很少有美国人知道，“五月花号”最初并非起航于普利茅斯，而是起航于我的家乡南安普顿。在我七岁时，我们全家从英国南部移居到了美国中西部。我们这次迁徙之旅是因为父亲在那里找到了一份工作，父母希望这份工作能让我们最终摆脱终日奔波却依旧贫困的生活状态。我们的第一个感恩节是与父亲工作上的朋友施蒂尔夫妇一起度过的。施蒂尔夫妇自以为是但热情好客，再三招呼我们吃青豆焙盘菜、炸洋葱、甜山药，还有一道最为奇怪的菜——柑橘椰子甜品（又粘又甜，几勺下去，让人感觉头晕、反胃，似乎恰恰象征着被匆匆带入一种新文化后的感觉）。

后来，施蒂尔夫妇要父亲合伙进行一项冒险的商业投资，父亲拒绝了，我们家与施蒂尔夫妇的交情也随之结束。但那时候，我们已经对感恩节习俗了如指掌。在厨房里，父亲舍弃了以果浆软糖为主的配菜，取而代之以在大西洋彼岸颇受欢迎的菜肴：烤欧洲萝卜、面拖烤香肠和面包粉调的牛奶调味汁。但我们不只是把感恩节变成大型的英国周日烤肉大餐，选择庆祝这个节日——就像我们开始庆祝7月4号美国国庆日一样——我们是在打桩立标，表明我们对这种新生活的坚持，宣称就算思乡情切、寒冬难耐，我们也决意要撑下去，永久地安顿下来。

对于清教徒们来说，考验历时很长，早在他们到达这片海岸之前就开始了。刚出港两百英里，“五月花号”的姐妹船“婆婆纳号”就开始漏水，旅行不得不在英格兰的普利茅斯暂停。“五月花号”接纳了“婆婆纳号”的乘客，并继续航行，“婆婆纳号”则被遗弃。

我们家这艘“船”在航行途中也“沉没”了。在我上大学之前的那个夏天，母亲被确诊为脑癌晚期。我回家过感恩节时，她已经生命垂危，甚至连我的名字也不记得了。吃饭时，我看着嚼碎的火鸡和蔓越莓酱顺着她的下巴流了下来，深感恶心而又惊恐。她去世以后，父亲和弟弟罗里开始互相争吵，父亲威胁他说，如果他不能振作起来，不能戒酒和戒大麻，再和朋友在一起夜不归宿，就把他赶出家门，送去军校。

接下来的两个感恩节，我们三个人聚在一起，花了几个小时吃感恩节晚餐。但我记得席间父亲对罗里说的唯一一句话是“把牛奶调味汁递给我”。那年冬天，我弟弟丧生于一场车祸，当时他正和哥们儿在去往聚会的路上。父亲痛不欲生，开始酗酒，把自己往死里喝。我们在一起度过的最后一个感恩节只有我和父亲两个人，那时他身体太虚弱，都吃不下他花一整天时间准备的晚餐。

此后的七个感恩节，我在七个不同的地方度过，大多数时候是和朋友及他们的家人在一起。我是他们餐桌上的不速之客，一个操着美国中西部口音的英国人，一个没有自己家的人。

凯特琳和她的妈妈、爸爸、姐姐看电影回来时，正好看到我在冰箱里找东西吃。我刚从被子里爬出来，泪眼模糊、头发蓬乱。他们开始接二连三地拿玩笑逗我。当我露出受伤的表情时，凯特琳的妈妈给了我一个拥抱，揉了揉我的头发。“好啦，年轻人，”她说，“你得像我们一样对待生活。”她还在开玩笑，但其实她没有。

那天晚上，我躺在凯特琳身边，无法入眠。我试图细细分析自己的情绪。

我害怕投入，害怕真正地投入这段恋情。我像往常一样，痛彻心扉地思念我的母亲、父亲和罗里。这么多年来，感恩节一直是我需要勇敢去面对的节日——每过一年就在墙上做个记号。但是今年和凯特琳在一起的这个感恩节，不再是需要硬撑下去的节日。

在周末剩余的时间里，我的心情放松了许多。大家对我的所有期望其实就是吃好，喝好，开开玩笑。毕竟，凯特琳的妈妈似乎对她遇到的每个人都像慈母一样。

但当我们在机场告别时，她在我的脸上亲了一下，说道：“爱你，孩子。”此时我已经完全恢复了好心情，这才意识到她叫我“孩子”时不仅仅是下意识的礼节。我已经在她家的餐桌上获得了一席之位。我应该开始称这个新世界为“家”了。

1. Milwaukee：密尔沃基，美国威斯康星州东南部港口城市

2. tease [ti?z] vt. 逗弄

3. sarcastic [sɑ?（r）?k?st?k] adj. 好挖苦人的

4. aloof [??lu?f] adj. 冷淡的

5. grouchy [?ɡra?t?i] adj. 〈口〉脾气不好的

6. mumble [?m?mb（?）l] vt. 喃喃而语

7. brusque [bru?sk] adj. 唐突的

8. lame [le?m] adj. （托辞、建议等）站不住脚的，理由不充足的

9. Wampanoag [?wɑ?mp??n???g] n. 万帕诺亚格人（1620年英国清教徒移居美国时马萨诸塞州东南部印第安人的一个部落或其成员）

10. brash [br??] adj. 自以为是的

11. casserole [?k?s?r??l] n. （肉、蔬菜加汤汁用文火焙烧的）焙盘菜

12. yam [j?m] n. 山药，洋芋

13. ambrosia [?m?br??zi?] n. （正餐后的）柑橘椰子甜品

14. gooey [?ɡu?i] adj. 〈口〉又粘又甜的

15. giddy [?ɡ?di] adj. 头晕的；令人眼花缭乱的

16. versed [v??（r）st] adj. 精通的

17. forgo [f??（r）?ɡ??] vt. 放弃，抛弃

18. marshmallow [?mɑ?（r）??m?l??] n. 果浆软糖

19. parsnip [?pɑ?（r）sn?p] n. [植]欧洲防风，欧洲萝卜

20. toad-in-the-hole：面拖烤香肠

21. stake [ste?k] vt. 立桩标出……的界限；立界标以表明（所有权）

22. scupper [?sk?p?（r）] vt. 使船沉没，破坏，摧毁

23. drool [dru?l] vi. 流口水

24. wasted [?we?st?d] adj. 虚弱的

25. raid [re?d] vt. 突然搜查

26. bleary [?bl??ri] adj. 眼睛模糊的

27. bedhead [?bed?hed] n. 发型凌乱的样子

28. pepper [?pep?（r）] vt. （雨点般地）向……掷（或问等）

29. tousle [?ta?z（?）l] vt. 弄乱

30. kiddo [?k?d??] n. 〈口〉年轻人

31. knee-jerk：下意识的