I yelled at you today. I had gone to the kitchen to start dinner. And you called out，“Where are you， where are you？”

“I’m right in the kitchen，” I answered angrily. “Oh，” you replied with a sigh of relief.

I yelled at you today. This time I was in the bathroom.

“Where’d ya go？ Pat？ Pat？”

You called my name over and over.

“I’m in the bathroom，” I shouted at the top of my voice， knowing full well you couldn’t hear me， certain the neighbors could.

I yelled at you today. You poured apple juice on top of your pasta. God， what a mess.

I yelled at you today. You spit out your medicine. You’d never done that before.

I yelled at you today. You could see our car from the living room window and kept 1）hinting for a ride. When I tried to explain that we had already been out， you looked at me as if I were trying to trick you. I hate it when you think I’m lying to you. Even though I know you can’t help it， I hate it.

I yelled at you today. I had just finished dressing you for day care and left to answer the phone. When I got back， you had your nightgown back on and were wearing my oversized walking shoes. If that wasn’t enough， when we were finally ready， as I zipped up your coat， you announced， “I have to pee.”

At last， we were almost out the door. I put your favorite red hat on you. As I pulled it down over your ears， you smiled. “Thank you， Mama，” you said and then instantly realized your mistake. You covered your mouth with your hand， your eyes wide with surprise. “That’s what’s happening， isn’t it？” you asked.

“Yes，” I answered. “And it’s okay， it’s okay，” I repeated， trying to 2）reassure us both.

But if it’s okay， why can’t I simply take the time to tell you I’m leaving the room and I’ll be right back？ Why yell when you make a mess at mealtime？ I have to clean it up anyway. There are times when I can hardly get my own vitamins down； why do I always expect you to be able to swallow yours？

Tonight， as I tucked you in bed， we sang your favorite lullabies together. I think you enjoy this part of the day best. “Love you，” I said and kissed you good night.

“Love you， too. How is it we’re together？” you asked.

“Well， to begin with ， you’re my mother.”

“Oh，” you said， surprised. “Isn’t that lovely？”

“It depends on how you look at it，” I said， and you laughed. I thanked God you still had a sense of humor. “I’m sorry I yelled at you today，” I apologized.

“You did？” you asked. But tonight that confused look was missing； instinctively I could tell you did remember.

“So， you’re letting me 3）off the hook，” I said with relief. You reached up and moved the hair from my forehead.

“It’s okay， honey， it’s hard.” And then you took the corner of your top sheet and wiped the tears from my eyes.

I didn’t yell at you today. In fact， I haven’t yelled at you all week. I’m finally taking the doctors’ advice and the advice of family and friends. We won’t be living together anymore. The guilt and grief is so overwhelming. I can hardly think straight. I’m tired， Mom， so very tired. After our 4）ritual of nightly lullabies， I laid my head on your chest and sobbed like a baby. You cradled me in your arms and I knew you understood. Instantly， I began missing you more than I thought possible.

I visit you almost every day. Sometimes you remember my name， sometimes you don’t. But you’re always excited to see me. Today as I approached the dining room， your eyes were wandering， allowing me to sneak in and sit across the table from you. I waited for you to notice my presence. When you finally did， you smiled and asked， “Say， aren’t you important to me？”

I got up from my chair and walked over to you. “I sure hope so，” I said. After kissing you on top of your head， I added， “Because， God knows， you’re important to me.”

A year has passed； you’ve become weak and 5）bedridden. Time for you is only a matter of days. The waiting is difficult. My two sisters and I are with you day and night. Today your favorite 6）aides wait with us. I hold your hand and for the last time sing your favorite lullabies.“I’ll be all right，” I promise. “You can go now.”

Your eyes close. Within minutes your breathing stops. The head nurse listens for a heartbeat. There is none. One of the aides walks over to the window. “We must free her spirit，” she tells us， and， as is custom， opens it. Goodbye， Mom.

During our last few years together， I learned so much about you， so much about myself. Thank you， Mom， it was a pleasure. And an honor.

我今天吼你了。我明明在廚房準(zhǔn)備晚餐。你卻大聲叫喚，“你在哪里，你在哪里？”

“我就在廚房里。”我生氣地回答?！芭??！蹦爿p聲嘆息，如釋重負(fù)地答道。

我今天吼你了。這次我在浴室里。

“你在哪里？帕特？帕特？”

你一遍又一遍地呼喊我。

“我在浴室里。”深知你聽力衰退，會(huì)聽不清我的回答，我用盡全力高聲喊道，鄰居們一定聽得很清楚。

我今天吼你了。你把蘋果汁倒在了意大利面上。天，真是一團(tuán)糟。

我今天吼你了。你把藥吐了出來。你以前從不會(huì)這樣做。

我今天吼你了。你從客廳的窗戶可以看到我們停在外面的車，并一直暗示想要坐車去兜風(fēng)。我努力向你解釋我們已經(jīng)出去過了，但你卻用那種眼神看著我，好像我在哄騙你似的。我討厭你覺得我在騙你。即便我知道你是身不由己，我還是討厭。

我今天吼你了。我才剛給你穿好去日間護(hù)理院的衣服，轉(zhuǎn)身接個(gè)電話，回來時(shí)就發(fā)現(xiàn)你又把睡衣穿上了，腳上還穿著我那雙過大的休閑鞋。更糟的是，當(dāng)我們終于準(zhǔn)備妥當(dāng)，我正幫你拉上外套的拉鏈時(shí)，你宣布：“我想尿尿?！?/p>

終于，我們快要出門了。我?guī)湍愦魃夏阕類鄣哪琼敿t色帽子。當(dāng)我?guī)湍惆衙弊永蕉厱r(shí)，你笑著對(duì)我說：“謝謝你，媽媽?！比缓竽懔⒓匆庾R(shí)到了你的錯(cuò)誤。你用手掩住嘴巴，驚訝地睜大雙眼。“我變成這樣了，是嗎？”你問道。

“是的?！蔽一卮稹！暗珱]關(guān)系，沒關(guān)系的。”我重復(fù)道，努力安撫我們兩人的情緒。

但若真的沒關(guān)系，為什么我不能花點(diǎn)功夫跟你說我要離開房間一下，馬上回來就好？為什么每當(dāng)你吃飯弄得到處一團(tuán)糟時(shí)我會(huì)對(duì)你大吼大叫？反正我總是要清理干凈的。又是為什么，就連有時(shí)我都覺得難以下咽的維生素片，我卻總是希望你能好好吞下呢？

今晚，我哄你睡覺時(shí)，我們一起唱了你最喜歡的搖籃曲。我想這是一天當(dāng)中你最喜歡的時(shí)光。“愛你。”我說道，并親吻你，向你道晚安。

“我也愛你。但是我們是怎么走到一起的？”你問道。

“嗯，首先，你是我媽媽?！?/p>

“噢?！蹦泱@訝地說道?！斑@真讓人感到開心，不是嗎？”

“這就取決于你怎么看待這件事了?！蔽艺f。然后你大笑起來。感謝上帝，你還保有幽默感?！皩?duì)不起，我今天吼了你?！蔽蚁蚰愕狼浮?/p>

“你有嗎？”你問道。但你今晚并沒有露出那種困惑的神情，直覺告訴我其實(shí)你記得。

“所以，你不怪我?！蔽艺f道，松了一口氣。你把手伸過來，捋開我前額的頭發(fā)。

“沒關(guān)系，親愛的，這很不容易?！比缓竽隳弥蛔拥囊唤菐臀也粮裳蹨I。

我今天沒有吼你。事實(shí)上，我這一周都沒有吼過你。我最后還是聽從了醫(yī)生和親朋好友的建議。我們今后不會(huì)再住在一起。愧疚與痛苦如潮水般將我淹沒，我?guī)缀鯚o(wú)法思考。我感到很累，媽媽，很累。在我們照例唱完搖籃曲后，我把頭擱在你的胸膛上，哭得像個(gè)孩子。你抱著我輕輕搖晃，我知道你不會(huì)怪我。與此同時(shí)，我開始深深地想念你，我沒想到思念竟會(huì)如此強(qiáng)烈。

我?guī)缀趺刻於既ヌ酵恪Ｓ袝r(shí)候你記得我的名字，有時(shí)候不記得。但見到我，你總是表現(xiàn)得很興奮。今天當(dāng)我走近餐廳時(shí)，你的眼神游離，我悄悄地溜了進(jìn)去，隔著桌子坐在你對(duì)面，等待你注意到我的存在。你終于注意到了，笑著問我，“你對(duì)我很重要，是嗎？”

我從椅子上站了起來，向你走過去?！拔耶?dāng)然希望如此。”我說。在你的頭頂親了一下，我補(bǔ)充道，“因?yàn)椋熘?，你?duì)我有多么重要?！?/p>

一年過去了。你變得很虛弱，臥床不起。你已時(shí)日無(wú)多。等待是個(gè)煎熬的過程。我和兩個(gè)姐妹日夜守候在你身邊。今天你最喜歡的護(hù)士和我們一起守候。我握著你的手，最后一次唱起了你最喜歡的搖籃曲。“我會(huì)好好的。”我發(fā)誓?！澳憧梢园残牡刈吡?。”

你合上雙眼。幾分鐘后，你停止了呼吸。護(hù)士長(zhǎng)上前聽聽你是否還有心跳。沒有。其中一名護(hù)士走到窗邊?！拔覀円棚w她的靈魂。”她對(duì)我們說，然后便依例打開了窗戶。再見，媽媽。

在我們一起生活的最后幾年里，我愈加了解你，也對(duì)自己有了更深的了解。謝謝你，媽媽，和你生活是一件愉悅的事，也是我的榮幸。