乔安尼・J.亨利

The Pennsylvania-landscape was in severe wintry garb as our car sped westover the interstate Ul The season was wrong, butI couldn't get bluebirds outof my head.

Only three weeks before, at Christmas, Dad had given me a nesting box he'dmade: He had a special feeling for the brilliant creatures, and each spring heeagerly awaited their return. Now I wondered, will he ever see one again?

It was a heart attack. Dad's third.

我们的汽车奔驰西行越过州界，宾夕法尼亚州一派严冬景象，时令不正常，可是我对蓝知更鸟一直不能忘怀。

就在三周前圣诞节那天，爸爸把他自己制作的一个鸟巢箱给了我。他对这些色彩鲜艳的小生灵怀有特殊的感情，每年春天他都热切地期待它们归来。现在，我不知道他是否还能再见到一只。

心脏病发作，这是爸爸第三次犯病了。

When I got to the hospital at 2 a.m., he was losing the fight. As the familyhovered at his bedside, he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Once he looked up at.Mom sitting beside the bed holding his hand. "Theywant me to let go," he said, ':but I can't. I don't want to."Mom patted his arm. "Just hold on to me," she murmured.

The next morning the cardiologist met us in the waiting room. "He's stillfighting,"the doaor said. "I've never seen such strengthMy youngest brother was only five when Ileft home 30 years ago. Relation-ships between my brothers- and sisters had become -frayed because of dis-tance and commitments to our own families. But Dad needed his childrennow, so we stayed at the hospital. During the long vigil, we reminisced aboutour years at home.

凌晨两点我到了医院，他浑身瘫软无力，家人守候在床边，他时而失去知觉，时而神志清醒。

有一次，他抬头望着坐在床边握着他手的妈妈说：“他们想要我松手，可是我不能松，我不想松。”

妈妈拍着他胳膊低声说：“攥住我吧。”

第二天早晨，心病学专家?候诊室遇见我们，这位大夫说：“他仍在搏斗，我从来没有见过意志这样坚强的。”

30年前我离开家的时候，最小的弟弟才五岁。后来因为我们居住相距甚远，而且都忙于自己的小家庭，所以兄弟姊妹之间的关系不够亲近。但是如今爸爸需要他的孩子们，因此我们来到医院，在长时间守夜期间，我们回忆起在家时的岁月。

A miner, Dad had not had an easy life. He and Mom raised six kids at a timewhen coal miners eamed as little as 25 cents a ton, and he loaded nine tonsa day. Even now, I'm sure we don't know most of the sacrifices they madefor us.

I remembered Dad's hard hat, its carbide lamp showing a fine pall of coaldust. Dad's graygreen eyes seemed large and wise as an owl's in his black-ened face. They often sparkled with devilment when they met yours inconversation. 

Each evening he came home, eager to take up his crosscut saw or clawhammer. Dad could chock a piece of walnut on his lathe and deffly tum outa beautiful salad bowl for Mom. He could build a cherry fold-top desk withfine, dovetailed drawers as easily as he could fashion a fishing-line threaderout of an old ballpoint pen.

爸爸，一名矿工，以前没有过安逸的生活。他和妈妈养育六个小孩，而当时煤矿工人收入非常低，生产一吨煤炭只挣25美分，他一天要挖九吨。就是现在，我肯定我们也不知道他们为我们做出了多少牺牲。

我记得爸爸质地很硬的帽子，帽子上燃烧碳化物的照明灯上覆盖着一层细细的煤炭粉末。在爸爸黝黑的面庞上，一双灰绿的眼睛像猫头鹰的眼睛一样，显得很大而充满智慧。在交谈时与你的目光相遇，他眼睛里经常闪耀着恶作剧的神情。

每天傍晚他回到家，就饶有兴致地拿起横切锯或爪形拔钉锤。他能在车床上卡上一块胡桃木，熟练地给妈妈制作一个漂亮的盛色拉的碗。他能利用旧圆珠笔制作钓鱼穿线用具，同样能毫不费力地制作带有精巧楔形榫抽屉的樱桃木的、桌面可折叠书桌。