刚读完一本回忆录，《The Longest Trip Home》，作者John Grogan。 

John出生于1957年的底特律，母亲操持家务，父亲是汽车厂工程师，父母亲都是虔诚的天主教徒。John生性顽皮，不受管束，还爱撒谎，7岁时第一次对神父忏悔就撒了谎：他不愿意当众承认偷看隔壁太太日光浴，就编造了一些他认为“可恕”的行径：“我跟哥哥们打过12次架，6次不听父母话，2次撒谎说作业做完了，偷过一个收音机，扔湖里了，看过67还是68次裸体画报，跟父母撒谎10次，偷看姐姐日记3次。。。”，这么多sin，神父是不是有超额完成工作的感觉？ 

尽管长期熏陶在宗教教育之下，John还是不能接受天主教，这也是他与父母之间最大的分歧，和所有这个年龄的孩子一样，他对父母爱着，烦着，抗拒着。他和一帮朋友厮混，抽烟喝酒吸大麻，毁坏老人的房子。。。着实让父母失望，焦虑。高中毕业他去别处上大学，摆脱了父母的呵护与管束，寻求独立自主的新生活。恋爱结婚，添丁进口，工作顺畅，Life seemed about as good as life could get。 

可是，一个家庭扬帆启航时，另外一个家庭正在到达终点。父母渐渐老去，母亲髋骨和背部受损导致失忆，心脏病、糖尿病、关节炎、老年痴呆症缠身。父亲是母亲的全职保姆，而他自己也患有心脏病，刚摆脱了前列腺癌。父亲一直坚持自己割草打理院子扫积雪，爬梯子上房清理排水槽，还和年轻时一样，他从来不闲着，他依然生龙活虎。 

直到有一天，父亲打电话过来，告知他患了血癌。John这才猛然醒悟，父亲已经86岁，家，这个唯一能无条件接纳他包容他的地方，已经摇摇欲坠。游子终于踏上了回家的路，去重温时日不多的父子亲情。

As I walked in from the garage to the laundry room, I plucked from the recesses of my memory one of the corny family expressions I had grown up hearing whenever a close friend or relative arrived.“ Hey, hey,”, I called out. “Look what the dog dragged in!” 

“Ruth! He’s home!” I heard my father’s voice from the next room. After a long moment, longer than I had expected, he came around the corner, and I sucked in my breath. I barely recognized him. Dressed in pajamas and a robe, he leaned heavily on a cane as he shuffled gingerly toward me, his slippered feet not lifting off the linoleum. My always ramrod-straight, speed-walking, up-with –the–sun father was stooped over as he inched forward in a manner that can only be described as doddering. What was most shocking, though, was his face. It was as round and puffy as a beach ball, his skin stretched tight as if ready to pop. He had told me that daily steroid treatments has caused him to retain fluids and swell, but I wasn’t expecting this. I noticed his wrists and hands were just as swollen. 

“John! You’re home!” he said jovially but in a voice weaker than I has known. I took his hand in both of mine and gave it the vigorous Grogan shake. 

“Well, I’m not much to look at right now,” he said, “But I’m getting along. Come on in and say hello to your mother.” 

I followed behind him as he inched his way into the living roo., where she sat in front of the window, her own cane across her knees. “Look who’s here, Ruthie,” he announced. 

“Hi, Mom,” I said, dropping to one knee in front of her so we could be eye to eye, “It’s John.”

。。。。

化疗摧毁了父亲的免疫系统，感染上肺炎，医院已经无计可施。父亲的生命已经走到了尽头，最让他放心不下的是他的老妻，He was the knight guarding the queen’s castle, and now the invaders had robbed him of his sword and shield. 他安排儿子给母亲联系好养老院，嘱咐孩子们他走了之后家不能散，兄弟姐妹之间要关照，一如既往。 

那天早晨，父亲的血氧暴跌，他竭尽全力地呼吸，血氧容量都无法打达到最低标准，只能靠呼吸机维持生命了。父亲明白，是神在召唤他，他要遵从神的旨意。他抱歉地对儿子说：“I’m tired. I. Don’t. Want. To. Fight. This. Anymore”，each word coming out like its own sentence.  

和医生约好时间，就像约牙医一样简单地，他们约好了下午2：30，父亲死亡的时间。

 

“you don’t need to fight anymore, Dad, You gave it everything you had. You are so brave. You can stop. You can just relax now.”  

“Dad,”I said, my voice quaking. “Jesus is going to take you home today. In just a little while, he’s going to take you.”Dad moved his head up and down in short, jerky motions, and I knew he understood.

父亲躺着，身体舒展开，那么平静，那么安详。孩子们围在身边，目送这位曾经是son, brother, husband, father, grandfather. Engineer，mathematician, var veteran, scout leader, volunteer. Stamp collector, gardener, sailor, classical music buff. Faithful Catholic的人的生命慢慢消失，像一曲华美的乐曲的尾声一样，渐渐地飘散，飘散。

OH MY。。。。

当然，死亡只是书中很小一部分内容，多的是对家庭生活趣事的回忆。

说起来他们的日子虽不十分优越，但也足够丰衣足食，4个孩子都上价格不菲的教会学校。可是父母过日子都很节俭，他们的节俭那么自然而然，说是美德不如说是生活习惯： 

母亲把餐巾纸1裁2；茶包泡了一杯茶，晾干后明天还能再泡一杯； 

在家里洗衣房里常住着一根棍子，一头叫乔治，一头叫苏希，分别用来棒打男、女孩的屁股。孩子们在公众场合不听话，母亲不好意思大声斥责，就会很委婉地问：would you like to meet my friend Gorge?　尽管母亲从来不下重手，但一听到乔治和苏希的名字他们就会立刻乖下来。 

父亲最善于废物利用，1物N用。孩子们的衣物箱都是用大啤酒箱改装的；厨房的纸巾他先擦碗碟再擦地板上的污点最后还能擦汽车机油；坏了的电器决不扔掉，存放在地下室以备将来某个零件的“器官移植”之需；每次洗完车，都能听到父亲喊：肥皂水，泡泡水，我这里还有一大桶肥皂泡泡水，有人要用吗？从来没人答应可是他每次照喊；院子里的活儿从来不请工人，这是一周一次的亲子活动：父亲割草，大哥修边，二哥和John捡树枝、耙树叶碎草，“We all loved being out there with him。” 

John的未婚妻不是天主教徒，加上婚前两人就同居，父母对这个准儿媳不看好，有些小瞧她，认为她配不上他们的儿子。当然，西方的公婆不会上演孔雀东南飞，顶多也就是提出宝贵意见仅供参考。结婚当天早晨，母亲给儿子做了一个三明治，里面夹着香肠肉和大块的洋葱。洋葱味道很冲，单是看几眼就能刺得人流泪，吃了这种味道怎么能去亲吻新娘？“Why not? You love liverwurst and onion.”。婚礼上隔着4尺远的伴郎都能闻到熏人的洋葱味----母亲以此小伎俩最后一次示威，让人哭笑不得。 

一直很喜欢读自传回忆录这样题材的作品，没有虚构的高潮迭起，薄薄一本书里贯穿了一个人的一生，有始有终。人生有千百种滋味，品尝到最后，也许在大多数人心里，就只剩下对死去亲人的怀念，以及对最终将要到来的死亡的恐惧。对于生命中这些无能无力的生生死死，聚散离合，也许，真该有个信仰？