媽媽 你只管來愛我 我在這裏呢
I can feel their unasked questions.
我能感覺到那些沒有問出口的問題。
People wonder how I can still stand, still walk, still laugh.
人們想知道，我怎麼還能站着，還能走路，還能發笑。
But they don’t ask.
不過他們沒有問。
You can’t ask that of a mother who has lost her child.
他們不能向一個失去孩子的母親問這些問題。
My son, Daniel, died three years ago at the age of 22.
我的兒子丹尼爾(Daniel)三年前22歲時去世。
When people ask me, How… are you?, that pause, that inflection, tells me that’s really what they want to know.
當人們問我你……還好嗎？他們的停頓和語調的變化讓我知道，他們是真的想知道。
I am tempted to tell them that it is I who am lost, not he.
我很想告訴他們，迷失的人是我，不是他。
I am lost in my search for him, knowing he is nowhere on this earth.
我在尋找他的過程中迷失了自己，知道他不在這個世界的任何一個角落。
And still, it would not surprise me if he were to appear by my side wearing only his jersey boxers eating a snack at the kitchen counter.
不過，如果他突然出現在我身旁，只穿着運動短褲，坐在廚房的操作檯邊吃零食，我也不會感到意外。
At times I can almost smell his warm cheesy breath and his still-boyish sweat.
有時，我幾乎能聞到他溫暖的奶酪味呼吸和他依然具有男孩氣息的汗味。
But when I look over my shoulder, he is not there.
但是當我回頭看時，他不在那裏。
My mind invents stories.
我開始在頭腦中編故事。
Daniel is not dead; he is lamenting the performance of his fantasy football team with high school buddies while they wait on line for ice cream at Magic Fountain.
丹尼爾沒有死，他正和高中的夥伴們在Magic Fountain冰激凌店一邊排隊一邊哀嘆着他的幻想足球隊的成績。
He is in his dorm room at Stanford, talking deep into the night with his friends.
他正在斯坦福大學的宿舍裏，和朋友們談話到深夜。
Daniel is lingering with new friends on the rooftop of his investment firm in Boston where he just started working.
他正在剛開始工作的一家波士頓投資公司的天台上和新朋友們交流。
Where are you, Daniel? I shout the question to the sky when I am strong enough to bear the silence that follows.
你在哪裏，丹尼爾？當我足夠強大，能夠承受隨之而來的沉默時，我對着天空大喊。
Why did you die? Even that has no real answer.
你爲什麼會死？甚至連這個問題也沒有真正的答案。
His doctors think Daniel died of new onset refractory status epilepticus, or Norse, a rare seizure disorder in which healthy people with no history of epilepsy suddenly begin to seize uncontrollably.
醫生們認爲丹尼爾死於頑固性癲癇持續狀態新發作（new onset refractory status epilepticus，簡稱Norse），一種罕見的癲癇，沒有任何癲癇史的健康人突然開始不由自主地抽搐。
The majority of patients die or survive with significant brain damage.
大部分患者不管能不能活下來，都會出現嚴重的腦損傷。
There is no identified cause or established treatment for Norse.
Norse沒有確定的病因或成熟的治療方法。
This cloud of uncertainty does not obscure what I know: My child is dead.
然而這些不確定性並不妨礙我確知的一件事：我的孩子死了。
The instinct to protect one’s offspring runs through mothers of virtually all species.
幾乎所有物種的母親都具有保護後代的本能。
I violated the basic canon of motherhood.
我違背了做母親的這一基本準則。
I failed to protect my child.
我沒能保護自己的孩子。
That my child is dead while I still live defies the natural order.
我的孩子死了，而我還活着，這違背自然秩序。
I love my husband and our two surviving children, but I couldn’t simply transfer my love for Daniel to them.
我愛我丈夫以及我們的另外兩個還活着的孩子，但我不能把我對丹尼爾的愛轉移到他們身上。
It was for him alone.
那是隻屬於他的愛。
And so, for the longest time after his death, my love for Daniel bruised me.
所以，在丹尼爾死後的很長時間裏，我對他的愛讓我傷痕累累。
So unbearable was my occluded heart that I called out to him in desperation one day: What will I do with my love for you, Daniel?
我鬱結的心臟難以承受這種痛苦，有一天，我在絕望中向他大聲呼喊：我該怎麼處置我對你的愛，丹尼爾？
My eyes were closed in grief when suddenly I seemed to see him before me, his arms bent and lifted upward in supplication.
我悲傷地閉上眼睛，突然之間，我好像看見他出現在我面前，他的胳膊彎曲着向上舉起，做出祈禱的樣子。
In my mind’s eye, his face was suffused with love and tinged with exasperation, a common look for Daniel.
我透過腦海中的眼睛，看見他的臉充滿愛，帶着一絲惱怒——那是丹尼爾的常見表情。
Just love me, Mom, he says.
只管愛我，媽，他說。
But where are you? I ask.
但是你在哪裏？我問道。
I’m here! he answers with frustration.
我在這裏！他沮喪地回答。
And then he is gone.
然後他走了。
I had not heard his voice since the day before he suddenly fell ill.
從他突然犯病前那一天起，我再也沒有聽到過他的聲音。
I spoke to him while he lay unseeing and unmoving in the hospital bed.
他躺在病牀上，看不見、動不了的時候，我跟他說話。
I told him I loved him.
我對他說我愛他。
I begged him to speak to me.
我懇求他跟我說話。
I begged him to come back to me.
我懇求他回到我身邊。
He never answered or moved to squeeze my hand.
他從來沒有回答，也從來沒有緊握我的手。
The only flicker from him over his 79 days of hospitalization was a single tear.
在他住院的79天裏，他唯一的動靜就是一滴眼淚。
One day a tear slid from his left eye down his cheek and disappeared beneath his chin.
有一天，一滴眼淚從他左眼滑落，流過臉頰，消失在下巴下面。
And now, months after he had died, I felt him before me.
而此刻，在他去世幾個月後，我感覺他出現在我面前。
Just love me, Mom.
只管愛我，媽。
I’m here!
我在這裏！
His words unleashed a torrent.
他的話像是打開了我感情的閘門。
I fell forward, my tears streaming.
我向前摔倒，眼淚奔涌而出，
I felt breathless with release.
因爲釋放而無法呼吸。
I could continue to love him.
我可以繼續愛他。
I would love him in a new way.
我將以一種新的方式愛他。
It was harder to do than I expected.
實際做起來比我想象中要難。
I would see him everywhere, in every full moon, in each brilliant day.
我會隨時隨地看見他，在每一個月圓的夜晚，在每一個陽光明媚的白天。
My spirits would soar.
我的精神會爲之一振。
But there were days when a weight in my heart made each breath shallow and every step an effort.
但在某些日子裏，我的內心又無比沉重，每一次呼吸都微弱不堪，每一步都難以邁出。
On the worst days I sit before my laptop and pour out my feelings to the only person who can take in my sorrow and remain unbowed.
感覺最糟糕的時候，我坐在筆記本電腦前，向唯一一個可以把我的悲傷照單全收而不被擊垮的人發泄我的情感。
The keyboard is damp when the final refrain leaves my fingertips: I love you, Daniel, I love you.
當我用指尖敲出最後的疊句時，淚水打溼了鍵盤：我愛你，丹尼爾，我愛你。
I miss you.
我想你。
I miss you.
我想你。
And then I press send.
然後，我按下發送按鈕。
Daniel’s friends continue to visit us.
丹尼爾的朋友們仍然會來看望我。
It is a pilgrimage of sorts.
帶着點兒朝覲的意味。
My heart tightens when I see them.
每當看到他們，我的心都會猛地收緊。
Their presence illuminates our immeasurable loss.
他們的存在時刻提醒着我們，我們的損失是多麼無可估量。
His friends reveal to me how much Daniel meant to them.
丹尼爾的朋友告訴我，他對他們來說非常重要。
Now there will be a missing groomsman at the wedding and empty air in the place of a steadfast friend.
現在，一場即將舉辦的婚禮會缺少一名伴郎，原本留給一個鐵哥們的位置會空空如也。
At the end of one visit, a young man asks, Recognize this sweater? I don’t.
有一次，一個年輕人在拜訪即將結束的時候問我，認出這件毛衫了嗎？沒有。
It’s Daniel’s, he explains.
是丹尼爾的，他解釋道。
I suddenly recognize Daniel’s old cotton sweater stretched to fit his friend.
我突然認出，他身上那件有些緊繃的棉毛衫是丹尼爾的。
The young man folds forward to touch the sleeves of the sweater, hugging himself.
那個年輕人俯身抱緊了自己，兩手撫摸着毛衫的袖子。
He is tall and blond and athletic.
他個子高高的，一頭金髮，很健壯。
He and Daniel were opposites in looks and temperament, best friends since nursery school.
他和丹尼爾不論在外貌上還是性格上都截然不同，但自打上幼兒園起就是最好的朋友。
He had just returned from Moscow where he was working.
他在莫斯科工作，剛剛回國。
I wear this when I travel, he says, touching the arm of the sweater again.
我旅行的時候會穿上這件衣服，他一邊說，一邊再度觸摸毛衫的袖子。
It’s so soft.
它非常柔軟。
I encourage Daniel’s friends to tell me about their work and their plans for the future.
我鼓勵丹尼爾的朋友們告訴我他們的工作情況以及他們對未來的打算。
At first they are self-conscious, and their voices are tender.
起初，他們有些難爲情，聲音也很輕。
They don’t want to hurt me with their future plans when there is no future for Daniel.
在丹尼爾已經沒有未來可言之際，他們不想讓自己對未來的打算傷害到我。
But as they speak of the things they will do and the places they will go, their excitement breaks free.
但當談及要做的事情和要去的地方時，他們逐漸興奮起來。
I smile into the glow of their unlined, earnest faces and I feel my son.
他們那光潔而又懇切的臉龐上綻放的神采讓我禁不住微笑，我彷彿感受到了兒子的存在。
I think they feel him too.
我想他們也感受到了他的存在。
For a moment we are all reunited.
有一瞬間，我們全都重聚在一起。
I will carry this child for the rest of my life.
這個孩子會伴我走過餘生。
He lives within me, forever a young man of 22.
他會活在我的心裏，永遠都是一個22歲的年輕人。
Others will carry him as they move forward in their lives.
在其他人繼續自己的生活之際，他也會陪伴着他們。
He will be with them when they look out to the world with compassion, when they act with determination and kindness, when they are brave enough to contemplate all the things in life that remain unknown.
當他們以憐憫之心看着這個世界的時候，當他們果決而又滿懷善意地行事的時候，當他們鼓足勇氣去迎接生命中所有未知的時候，他與他們同在。
I still search for him, but without desperation.
我仍然在尋找他，但已不再絕望。
I look for him in others.
我在其他人身上尋找他的影子。
My search is lifted by his words: Just love me.
我的尋找因爲他的話而振奮了起來：只管愛我。
I’m here.
我在這裏。
