莉莉安

“媽媽為人母以前的那些時(shí)光，是一連串被反復(fù)講述的故事。對(duì)女兒們來(lái)說(shuō)，這些母親的老照片既像是一道鴻溝，又像一座橋梁?！?/p>

本文（有節(jié)選）作者艾丹·勒普（Edan Lepucki），著有《加利福尼亞》《第17號(hào)女人》等小說(shuō)。

In one of my favorite photographs of my mother， shes about 18 and very tan（黝黑色）， with long， blonde hair. My dad is there， too， hugging her from behind， and from the looks of it， theyre somewhere rural — maybe some pastoral1 patch of small-town New Jersey where they met.

I havent seen this photo for years， I have no idea where it is now， but I still think of it — and， specifically， I think of my mom in it.

For me， and as for many daughters， the time before my mother became a mother is a string2 of stories， told and retold： the time she got hit by a car and had amnesia3； the time she sold her childhood Barbie to buy a ticket to Woodstock； the time she worked as a waitress at Howard Johnsons， struggling to pay her way through her first year at Rutgers. The old photos of her are even more compelling than the stories because theyre a historical record， carrying the weight of fact， even if the truth there in is slippery4： the trick of an image， and so much left outside the frame.

For daughters， these old photos of our mothers feel like both a chasm5 and a bridge. The woman in the picture is someone other than the woman we know. She is also exactly the person in the photo — still， right now. Finally， we see that the woman weve come to think of as Mom— whether shes nurturing6， or disapproving， or thoughtful， or delusional， or pestering， or supportive， or sentimental — is also a mysterious， fun， brave babe.

Shes been here all this time.

我很喜歡媽媽的一張照片，當(dāng)時(shí)她18歲左右，皮膚被陽(yáng)光曬得黝黑，留著長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)的金發(fā)。爸爸也在照片中，從后面擁著她，看上去他們待在鄉(xiāng)下的某個(gè)地方——或許是他們相遇的新澤西小鎮(zhèn)上的某片田園。

我已經(jīng)好多年沒(méi)見(jiàn)過(guò)這張照片，不知它被放在哪兒，但我仍然會(huì)想起它——尤其是照片中的媽媽。

像很多女兒一樣，對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，媽媽為人母以前的那些時(shí)光，是一連串被反復(fù)講述的故事：她曾被汽車撞到并失去記憶；她曾賣掉兒時(shí)的芭比娃娃，買伍德斯托克音樂(lè)節(jié)的門(mén)票；她曾在豪生酒店做服務(wù)生，辛辛苦苦地積攢羅格斯大學(xué)頭一年的學(xué)費(fèi)。老照片比故事要更加吸引人，因?yàn)樗鼈兪菤v史記錄，承載著現(xiàn)實(shí)的重量，盡管被收錄其中的是較為光鮮的現(xiàn)實(shí)：這是拍照的訣竅，有太多東西會(huì)被留在鏡頭之外。

對(duì)女兒們來(lái)說(shuō)，這些母親的老照片既像是一道鴻溝，又像一座橋梁。照片中的女人不是我們熟知的那個(gè)人。母親又的確是照片中的人——現(xiàn)在依然是。最終，我們發(fā)現(xiàn)心目中的母親形象是一個(gè)神秘、有趣而勇敢的女人——不管她是悉心愛(ài)護(hù)我們的、喜歡否定人的、心思縝密的、喜歡幻想的，還是會(huì)讓人苦惱、很會(huì)幫助人或多愁善感的。

她從未離開(kāi)過(guò)。