我至今仍保留著奶奶為我織的毛衣。那是一件有著小花和小貓花紋的小毛衣，是我七八歲時奶奶一針一線織給我的，非常漂亮，也很溫暖。盡管后來我已經穿不下了，它還是好好地待在衣柜里。這件毛衣是奶奶對我的愛，每次看到它，我都有種安定溫暖的感覺。親人的“遺物”或許不貴重，但對我們來說，總有著特別的意義。對于本文作者來說也是這樣，丈夫斯圖爾特留下的每一件遺物都是回憶，都是愛。

My husband， Stuart， died last June after a decadelong struggle with cancer. He was 77 years old， a former journalist and public relations executive[經理主管人員]， a marathon[馬拉松賽跑] runner， and a man beloved and respected by family and friends.

In going through his belongings， I often find things that I have forgotten about， small things that taken together are not small.

In the back of a drawer[抽屜]， I discover a poem that he wrote when we were students together at New York University. It reads：

Think in the morn[破曉]

There will be no sorrow[悲傷].

Think what is today

Is not tomorrow.

He wrote that poem when he was 25 years old， in 1961， the year we were married. He was the ultimate[終極的] optimist[樂觀主義者]， or so I thought. Yet now I read sadness in his words.

To my knowledge[知道]， he never wrote another poem. I wonder if he thought he would never write a better one.

Other things I find surprise me and make me smile. He bought in multiples[成倍的]. I count some 20 nail clippers[指甲鉗]， perhaps 40 packs of dental floss[牙線]， 10 staplers[訂書機]， 20 rolls of packing tape， and enough soap， toothpaste， mouthwash and cotton balls to take me through the next millennium.

I discover clothes that I bought him over the last years and note that the sizes drift downward[下降的] from large to small. Many of the smallest still have their price tags attached[附上].

Then， I spy[偵察，發(fā)現] a pair of jeans， mine， hanging to the side in his closet. I am a size eight. At the end， he wore my jeans， and they were too big.

In the midst of my rummaging[搜查]， I receive a computer message from Stuart. Before he died hed set his computer， without my knowledge， to remind me to do certain chores[瑣事].

The first message comes， shockingly， a few weeks after his death. “Please water the blueberry bushes.”

Then： “Please pick the tomatoes.”

In early September： “Time to turn the mattress[褥子] and change the water filter[過濾器] in the refrigerator. Thanks.”

Five days before our quarterly taxes are to be mailed， he reminds me to mail them. He has already filled out the forms and written and signed the checks. Even stamped the envelopes.

With him gone， our papers are no longer properly filed. In fact， my new filing system is an empty box from the grocery store[雜貨店]. I find it， at least temporarily[臨時地]， an efficient[高效的] arrangement， because every paper that passes through my hands is now located in one spot. Nevertheless， such laziness by me would be sinful[罪惡的] to Stuart， who kept detailed records on almost every item he touched. But then， I rationalize[使合理化]， in the filing department I have always been a disappointment.

There can be no doubt that we were polar[兩極的] opposites[對立].

Another thing Stuart left behind is the message on our phone. His welcoming voice greets callers. Several people have mentioned the message and suggested I change it.

But one male neighbor counseled[建議] against removing the message. “Good to have a male voice answering the phone，” he said. “Safer.”

Another friend， Dennis， a widower[鰥夫] from my bereavement[喪親] group， said he would record Stuarts voice for me in a file on my computer， so I would always have it. And then I could replace his message with my own.

Dennis is experienced in such matters. He did the same thing with the greeting by his wife， Hope. Its been more than a year since Hope died， yet he often listens to her message. Dennis also sometimes carries a computer with him that has a video of Hopes last conscious[神志清醒的] day in which she says goodbye to her family. Hes shown me the video several times； he tells me he has viewed it as many as five times a day.

A video of Stuart would be nice. But not on his last day. Id like to see him in Central Park with our Labrador retriever[拉布拉多獵犬]， Belle. Or playing with one of our grandkids. Or maybe lifting weights at the gym. Or just sitting in his leather chair reading a favorite passage in a book that he simply wants to share with me.

Finally， I come across Stuarts collection of stopwatches[秒表]. They are relics[遺物] from his running days. Eons ago[很久以前]， I accompanied him to Riverside Park， where he ran around a large field bordering[邊緣] the Hudson River. My job was to time and record each loop[圈] with one of his stopwatches.

Without thinking， I recently gave one of the watches to a friend who also runs， and then instantly[立即地] regretted its loss. I cannot yet part with anything.

我丈夫斯圖爾特與癌癥斗爭了十年，終于在去年六月離世，享年77歲。他當過記者，做過公關主管，跑過馬拉松，深受親朋好友的敬重與愛戴。

在整理他的遺物時，我常常會發(fā)現一些自己早已忘記的事物——都是些小玩意兒，湊在一起卻是那么的重要。

我在抽屜后頭找到一首詩歌，他寫這首詩的時候，我們倆還在紐約大學念書。這首詩是這樣的：

思之于拂曉

愿愁苦不再。

今日好光景

明日不復來。

他在25歲時寫下這首詩，那是1961年，我們結婚的那一年。他是個無可救藥的樂觀主義者——我本以為是這樣，但現在我從他的字里行間讀出了一縷傷感。

據我所知，他再也沒有寫過別的詩歌，不知道是不是他覺得自己再也寫不出更好的作品呢。

另一些發(fā)現則讓我大吃一驚，忍不住笑了起來。他老是買一大堆東西。我數了數，差不多有20把指甲鉗、大概40包牙線、10個訂書機、20卷包裝膠帶，以及足夠我用到下一個千禧年的肥皂、牙膏、漱口水和棉球。

我找到了自己在過去幾年里給他買的衣物，發(fā)現這些衣服從大碼逐漸“縮水”成了小碼，許多最小號的衣服甚至連價格標簽都還沒撕掉。

我接著發(fā)現我的一條牛仔褲掛在他的衣柜邊上。我穿八碼，他最后只能穿我的褲子——就連我的褲子，對他來說也太大了。

當我翻箱倒柜的時候，我在電腦上收到一條來自斯圖爾特的信息。他在去世之前瞞著我悄悄地在自己的電腦上做好了設置，以便提醒我做好各種家務雜事。

第一條信息是在他死后幾周出現的，嚇了我一跳：“麻煩給藍莓樹叢澆澆水?！?/p>

接下來的是：“麻煩采摘西紅柿?！?/p>

到了九月初：“是時候翻翻褥子了，冰箱的濾水器也該換了，謝謝。”

早在季度稅款寄送日的五天前，他就提醒我記得寄出去。他早已填妥表格，支票上也簽了名，甚至將信封上的郵票都貼好了。

在他走后，我們的文件再也沒辦法好好歸檔了。事實上，我那個新的“歸檔系統(tǒng)”就是一個從雜貨店買回來的空盒子。至少目前來說，我發(fā)現搞個盒子是個挺有效率的做法，因為我經手的每一份文件現在都能在一個地方找到。然而我這種惰性要是讓斯圖爾特看到一定覺得太作孽了——幾乎每一件他經手的東西都會留下詳盡記錄。不過其實這也合情合理，我在歸檔方面向來就是那么糟糕。

毫無疑問，我們倆簡直截然相反。

斯圖爾特留下來的另外一樣東西就是我們的電話留言。他用熱情的語調向來電者致意。好幾個人都和我提及這個留言，建議我把它換掉。

但是有個男性鄰居則認為我不應該換留言?！坝袀€男人的聲音接電話總是好的，”他說，“安全些?！?/p>

我的另一個朋友——丹尼斯是個鰥夫，我們是在喪親互助小組里認識的。丹尼斯說，他可以幫我錄下斯圖爾特的聲音，將音頻文件存到我的電腦里；這樣我就能一直保存起來，然后就可以將斯圖爾特的留言換成我自己的了。

丹尼斯可是這方面的行家，他就是這樣處理妻子霍普的問候音?；羝者^世已經一年多了，但丹尼斯依然經常重溫她的留言。他有時還會隨身帶著電腦，里面有霍普在意識還清醒的最后那天所拍的視頻，她在視頻里向家人道別。丹尼斯給我播放了好幾次，他說自己一天最多能看上五遍。

一段斯圖爾特的視頻也許是個不錯的點子，但我可不要在他臨終那天拍的東西。我希望看到的是他在中央公園里的樣子，和我們的拉布拉多犬貝拉在一起；又或是他和其中一個孫輩玩耍的樣子；又或是他在健身房舉重的樣子；又或是他坐在皮革椅子上朗讀著書中一段他所喜歡的文字，希望和我分享的樣子。

最后，我無意中找到了斯圖爾特的那一堆秒表。那是他參加賽跑時的歷史遺物。很久很久以前，我陪他一起去河濱公園。他繞著哈德遜河邊的一個大操場跑步，我的任務則是給他計時——他每跑一圈，我就用一個秒表記錄下時間。

我最近不假思索地將其中一個秒表送給了一個同樣經常跑步的朋友，隨即為此后悔莫及。我還不能舍棄任何一樣東西。