When Dad first came home there was an air of denial surrounding everyone whom came to visit him. They talked to him as if he would recover soon; wished him well when they departed, and if anyone ever gave him the chance to talk about the finality of his life that I never knew. Good-bye shouldn’t be so hard to say, but it often is heart-breaking.
当爸爸第一次回家的时候，每个来看他的人都有一种否认的气氛。他们对他说话，好像他很快就会康复似的；在他们离开的时候祝他一切顺利，如果有人给他机会谈论他生命的终点，我从来不知道。说再见不应该那么难，但是经常是令人心碎的。
I hate February. Maybe I do misunderstand it but it’s the most desolate time of a year. White-gray skies and coldness are its only equivalent features. February signifies death. I know this is true because on a cold gray mid-February day, seven years ago, came the news of my father’s terminal illness.
我讨厌二月。也许我确实误解了，但这是一年中最荒凉的时候。白灰色的天空和寒冷是它唯一相当的特征。二月意味着死亡。我知道这是真的，因为七年前的二月中旬，一个寒冷阴沉的日子，我父亲得了绝症。
We had suspected for some time that whatever was wrong with Dad would be something petty and curable. He had always maintained an active life even in his seventies, but this winter had hit him pretty hard. A cough that wouldn’t go away was followed by episodes of fatigue so severe that he wouldn’t or couldn’t look after himself. Eventually he had to be hospitalized and the tests confirmed our worst and ever-present fear — cancer. Though his pension could help cover his prescriptions but the diagnoses came too late for any type of treatment to have effect. There was nothing feasible to do but bring him home and wait for the inevitable outcome.
一段时间以来，我们一直怀疑，无论父亲出了什么问题，都是一些小问题，是可以治愈的。即使他已经七十多岁了，他仍然保持着积极的生活态度，但是这个冬天对他打击很大。咳嗽一直没有消失，接着就是剧烈的疲劳，他不能或不能照顾自己。最终他不得不住院治疗，化验结果证实了我们一直存在的最严重的恐惧——癌症。虽然他的养老金可以支付他的处方费用，但是任何一种治疗方法对他的诊断都来得太晚了。除了把他带回家，等待不可避免的结果，别无他法。
February gave way to March and then April came with its vitality and promise of new life. I suppose everyone feels the irony at the times like that. We sit by the side with no option but hopelessly watch the life drain from someone we love while the seasons turn and we can do nothing to stop death from its approaching. As my dad decayed and faded inside the house, the lawn turned green, the pond glowed like porcelain, all the trees leafed to fullness and the tulips sprang forth as though all was exactly as it should be. There is no fairness in destiny.
二月让位给了三月，四月带来了它的活力和新生的希望。我想每个人在那样的时候都会感到讽刺。我们坐在一旁，别无选择，只能绝望地看着生命的流逝，一个我们爱的人，当季节转变，我们无法阻止死亡的到来。我父亲在房子里腐烂褪色，草坪变成了绿色，池塘像瓷器一样发光，所有的树木都长满了叶子，郁金香像应有的样子一样长了出来。命运中没有公平。
I often spoke with my mother during the final weeks of dad’s life. She talked endlessly about the magnitude of her frustration and fatigue. There were times when she angered me with her negative and insensitive comments and there were times when I felt how tired she must be. Mom never said she was afraid to be widowed but at times I could sense how uneasy she was; I was not aware how she might react when the end came. The truth about death was hidden somewhere between our interpretation and what we refuse to admit. I carried the guilt of mutely hoping my dad’s death would be quickened, thus sparing him and myself the agony of prolonged pain.
在父亲生命的最后几周，我经常和母亲交谈。她没完没了地谈她的挫败感和疲劳感有多么严重。有时候她的消极和麻木不仁的评论激怒了我，有时候我觉得她一定很累。妈妈从来没有说过她害怕成为寡妇，但是有时候我能感觉到她有多么不安；我不知道当末日来临时她会有什么反应。关于死亡的真相隐藏在我们的解释和我们拒绝承认之间的某个地方。我带着一种罪恶感，一言不发地希望父亲的死能够快点到来，这样就可以让他和我自己免受长期痛苦的折磨。
Death seems to determine to rip apart any fragile bond that exists between the living and the dying. On the last Sunday I was ever going to see my father, while talking leisurely, he mentioned how much he loved French fried potatoes and how he wished he could have a big plate of them now. Mom overheard his comment and began screaming that how she had cooked everything he had asked for and he didn’t eat any. She screamed so loud that I was embarrassed for my father and myself. She was like a pirate who left my father shipwrecked. He looked away from my eyes but I saw bitter tears rolling down from the corners of what once were the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. At that moment I hated my mother. I hated her for making me pity my father. I hated her for being spiteful, though mostly I hated myself. It would have been a simple thing for me to accommodate my dad’s request of French fried potatoes. I could have jumped right up and told mom I knew how tired she must be and even if dad didn’t or couldn’t eat them, I’d fix them for him. I could have told mom to go sit down and rest. Or I could have told her Dad was just talking about the recipe of food he enjoyed. I could have done a million things different from what I did. Sadly all
死亡似乎决定撕裂存在于生者和死者之间的任何脆弱的纽带。最后一个星期天，我打算去看望父亲，他一边悠闲地说着话，一边提到他有多么喜欢法式炸土豆，他多么希望现在就能吃上一大盘。妈妈无意中听到了他的话，开始尖叫，说她把他要的东西都做好了，而他一点都没吃。她的尖叫声如此之大，以至于我为我父亲和我自己感到尴尬。她就像一个海盗，把我的父亲抛弃在海难之中。他把目光从我的眼睛移开，但我看到苦涩的泪水从我曾经见过的最绿的眼睛的角落滚落下来。那一刻，我恨我的母亲。我恨她让我同情我的父亲。我恨她对我怀恨在心，尽管大多数时候我恨我自己。对我来说，满足爸爸的法式炸土豆的要求本来是一件简单的事情。我可以直接跳起来告诉妈妈我知道她一定很累了，即使爸爸不吃或者不能吃，我也会帮他修好的。我本可以让妈妈坐下来休息一下。或者我可以告诉她，爸爸只是在谈论他喜欢的食谱。我本来可以做很多不同于我所做的事情。可悲的是
I did was far from my emotions. As Mom was still yelling and Dad was trying to conceal his hurt, I made some lame excuse for leaving.
我所做的远远超出了我的情感。当妈妈还在大喊大叫，爸爸试图掩饰他的伤痛时，我找了一些站不住脚的借口离开了。
During my drive home I thought of how Mom had made my visit with Dad so depressing. The picture of Dad’s smiling face turning so quickly to one of hurt wouldn’t leave my mind. Why had she screamed out at him? Dad only wanted some fried potatoes. Mom could have said no or maybe later. On the contrary, she had lashed out at him with such rage that he shrank in fear at her onslaught, as did I. Why didn’t I gather an ounce of courage and stand up to Mom? Would it have been so hard for me to intervene? My father was dying and all he had asked for was some French fried potatoes. We were just talking about foods we enjoyed, like prawn, lobster, beef stew with pepper and mushroom soup, etc. The worst criminals condemned to death can request a last meal and get it. Where was the justice in refusing my father a plate of French fried potatoes? I couldn’t stop the tears as they overflowed from my eyes.
在我开车回家的路上，我想起了妈妈是如何让我和爸爸的见面变得如此压抑。爸爸的笑脸如此迅速地转变成一种痛苦的画面一直萦绕在我的脑海里。她为什么对他大喊大叫？爸爸只想要一些油炸土豆。妈妈本来可以拒绝的，或者晚点再说。恰恰相反，她对他大发雷霆，使他和我一样，对她的猛攻感到恐惧。为什么我没有鼓起一点勇气，勇敢地面对妈妈？对我来说干涉有那么难吗？我父亲快死了，他只想要一些法式炸土豆。我们只是在谈论我们喜欢的食物，比如大虾，龙虾，炖牛肉配胡椒和蘑菇汤等等。被判处死刑的最坏的罪犯可以要求最后一餐，并得到它。拒绝我父亲一盘法式炸土豆又有什么正义呢？我止不住眼泪，因为它们从我的眼睛里流了出来。
I opened the door to the home I shared with my husband and daughter, hoping to get in the bathroom before they could ask any questions. Luckily my husband was on the telephone and he barely glanced at my way as I came through the kitchen. I splashed cold water on my face and tried my best to conceal the redness the crying had created in my eyes. When I finally opened the door, my husband was standing on the other side, waiting for me to come out. He pulled me gently into his arms and whispered how much he loved me and how sorry he was to have to tell me my father had just passed away.
我打开与丈夫和女儿合住的房门，希望在他们问任何问题之前进入浴室。幸运的是，我丈夫正在打电话，当我穿过厨房时，他几乎没有看我一眼。我把冷水泼在脸上，竭力掩盖哭声在眼睛里造成的红肿。当我终于打开门的时候，我丈夫正站在门的另一边，等着我出来。他温柔地把我拉进他的怀里，低声说他有多么爱我，告诉我父亲刚刚去世了，他是多么的难过。
As my husband drove us back to my parent’s house, I kept thinking about how I had just left Dad, alive, not more than thirty minutes past. One of the ironies of death is even when you are expecting it, it comes as a surprise.
当我丈夫开车把我们送回父母家的时候，我一直在想我是如何在不到30分钟的时间里离开了还活着的父亲。具有讽刺意味的是，即使在你期待死亡的时候，它还是会出人意料地降临。
Seven years have passed since we buried Dad. I’ve only just begun to forgive Mom for her final outburst during my last talk with him. I’ve been less forgiving myself. Each day I’m ridiculed by my own thoughts. How could I have left Dad disappointed knowing he had a want? What was wrong with me to have not done something? Whenever I’m at a restaurant and hear children asking their
我们埋葬爸爸已经七年了。我才刚刚开始原谅妈妈在我最后一次和他谈话时的最后一次爆发。我自己就没那么宽容了。每天我都被自己的想法嘲笑。我怎么能让爸爸知道他想要什么就失望呢？我没有做点什么是错的吗？每当我在餐馆里听到孩子们问我
parents for fries to go with their hamburgers, I fight not to interfere. I want to say let them have fries. I’d offer to pay for them myself, too. But that would call for some kind of explanation and I’m not ready to share this with strangers.
父母为了油炸自己去吃汉堡包，我拼命不干涉。我想说，让他们吃薯条吧。我也愿意
自己出钱.但这需要某种解释,我还没准备好与陌生人分享.
无
There will be a time for an explanation when I am visited by the only principle of fairness. If those gates of Heaven are really there and a short pause exists while the records are reviewed, I’ll tell my story then. Before I am judged, I’ll bargain, would it be too much to ask if I might be awarded with time to prepare a plate of French fried potatoes? And if you could, would you graciously have them delivered to my father? I know he is here and he’ll know who sent them. If you could allow me this small favor I think I’ll be all right no matter where I might go from here.
当我被唯一的公平原则访问时，将会有一个解释的时间。如果那些天堂之门真的存在，并且在回顾记录时有一个短暂的停顿，那么我将讲述我的故事。在我被审判之前，我想讨价还价，如果我有时间准备一盘法式炸土豆会不会太过分了？如果可以的话，你能不能优雅地把它们送给我父亲？我知道他在这里，他会知道是谁派他们来的。如果你能允许我这个小小的帮助，我想我会没事的，无论我将从这里去哪里。
I hate February… it is the most desolate time of a year.
我讨厌二月…这是一年中最荒凉的时候。
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