做一個快樂的單身大媽 (w English)
文章來源: 暖冬cool夏2018-11-17 20:30:45

今天來它個標題黨,測一測大媽這兩個字還有多少吸引力:)) 

以前聽同事在說,她LD出差或出門了,會說“ I will be single/a single mom for a week." 就覺得,喔,原來這個single這個詞還可以這麽用,並不一定表示你divorced或沒有結婚。某人昨天回國了,這下我也可以理直氣壯地說, I will be single for a week:))

其實,有時心裏挺向往一個人的生活的,不用做飯,愛吃什麽吃什麽,不吃也沒人管,高興幾點睡就幾點睡,高興幾點起就幾點起,多麽自由自在的生活。

一個人的家空蕩蕩的,四周死一樣的寂靜,隻有鼠標和鍵盤的點擊和敲打聲 。記得自己以前還寫過一首打油詩《一個人的日子真好》

某人昨晚已經到家了。匆匆忙忙地回一趟家,匆匆忙忙地去購物,走之前又是買新衣服,又是染頭發的,就是怕母親見了嘮叨,心疼。 周四下班收拾行裝,周五又是一大早坐車去機場。人的一生不就是像這旅途嗎,一路忙碌一路辛苦。想起以前每次回國回來,人變得心浮氣躁。最近幾年才發現,這些曾經的衝擊亦隨著年齡的變化變化著,尤其在我們走過了千山萬水,走過了歲月後,漸漸也學會看淡一些事,珍惜一些事,所謂魚和熊掌不可兼得, 有得必有失,人生不可能完美,不可能沒有遺憾。

這個世界變得越來越小。或許有一天老了,會卸甲歸田,但隻要有網絡,這世界就會緊緊相連,人永遠不會孤單。

今天發現兩首新歌, 一首是《菩提樹下》,裏麵有兩句歌詞說得好,四大皆空找到自我,把心平靜才會快樂。

第二首是劉德華唱的電影《新少林寺》的插曲《悟》,很好聽,裏麵說的 ”一世隨緣,隨緣一世,才能活得自在。簡簡單單過好每一天“也是一種提醒。

 

 

11/15/2018

Two suitcases, one big and one small, are downstairs on the floor, zipped, upright and in place. Inside are the gifts for the parents and relatives that I have been buying hurriedly in the past weeks for his trip to China. Choosing right gifts is always a headache, and even so now when everyone back home is rich. I wish one day I could go home without such a hassle. But that day may never come.

I straightened myself from the floor, stretched, relieved and ready to relax.  LD came downstairs reminding me that he needed a hair dye. It was almost ten o’clock at night.  I followed him upstairs, tired and a bit grudgingly. He is not the person who is particular about his attire or outlook, and he rarely needs a dye. Isn’t this last-minute request a bit skeptical (Just kidding. :)?  As if reading my mind, he seated himself on a stool in the bath room, explaining to me assuringly that a touch-up is just to show his mom that he still looks young and healthy, and life here is just as good.  I gingerly brushed up here and there over his grizzled hair, my mind flashing back to the last weekend when we shopped at an outlet.

The autumn sun in the southern CA was still relentlessly beaming. The dry air had a faint smell of burnt fire coming off the northwest.  We strode off along the big mall, in and out of stores one after another, looking for gifts as well as a new jacket for him. Hours stealthily passed. Soon it was high noon. The direct sun scorched over the unshaded veranda mercilessly. As our shopping bags getting heavier, so were our feet. LD tried on a few more jackets before he put them back to the shelves. Either it is the style, the size, or the long sleeves that turned him down. Out of exasperation he said jokingly to himself as he stepped into a new store. “If I still cannot find a right one, let’s stop looking. I am going to put on my suit. Then Mom won’t say anything this time.”  He made a grimace.

Living in the states for so long, we care less about our outlooks now. Except for the required work attire, we dress casually after work. Comfort is what we are after, not the luxury. But people in China, or mom at home may still judge us by the appearance. If a good-looking jacket could save mom from any nagging or worrying, it is worth it. 

In the end, we found one right-sized sweater with zipper in the middle, just good enough to call it a day.

The night deepened when we were finally done with the hair dye, shower, dry blowing. We rested on bed, hoping that we could fall asleep fast, knowing that the reserved shuttle to pick him up will come very early in the morning.

11/17/2018

Alone at home all day long. When the night fell, it was dead silent and soundless in and around the house. Without his presence, the house is empty, but I relish every minute of this solitude, reading and writing quietly.

A door bell rang and broke the peace. Who is it? Without turning on light, I tiptoed in the darkness downstairs and peered into the door hole. It was the next door neighbor—an old Indian guy. I opened the door, and he handed me four bananas from his tree, saying that they are very sweet and he would like me to taste them. I took two, and thanked him. The neighbor has moved in for a year or two, but we rarely talk to each other. Except for one time about half a year ago, I knocked at his door, bringing to his attention that his towering banana palms blocked my second-floor window from opening. He trimmed them a little later. Though they still block the view, they are no longer in the way. Now the banana trees are bearing fruits, heavily hanging over his own roof.  We chatted for a while at the door. He told me that he moved from New York, and his daughter and son-in-law are all doctors, living in the same neighborhood. The old man was in the mood to talk, but his strong Indian accent put a damper on the conversation. A few minutes later, I returned to my desk, and continued my immersion in being solitary.