我的母親

My mom runs fast for a 65-year-old. Shes small—5 1）ft even—weighing in at just over 100 2）lbs. Her compact frame slays in the juniors section of American department stores. I see her 3）sprinting toward me as I stand on the corner of Austins busiest intersection， on its busiest fortnight—the two weeks it plays host to 4）South by Southwest， the annual multimedia conference. Its just after 11 P.M. and traffic is an absolute nightmare. My moms always been sporty but since she stopped dyeing her hair she looks her age. As she gets closer， I worry that her 5）brittle skeleton is going to crumple atop the 6）hood of a 7）swerving 8）SUV. Being picked up by my parents is an experience I thought Id grown out of entirely. After all， I am 33 years old， live in New York and am here on business. But they live just an hour outside of town， and I pulled the trigger on hotels late enough that Im staying with them. Theyve been stuck in traffic for two hours coming to get me.

I was on the phone with my dad， both of us barking over the 9）imperious GPS voice—him in a road rage and me in a full-body eyeroll—when my mom bolted from the car to run ahead， figuring Id be easier to 10）peg on foot. Im watching her beam and wave big， while running hard and yelling my full name in English， just like that： first name； last name. My parents both do this as though its for my benefit. Like， calling a child by their full government name is supercasual. Like， its not a dead giveaway as the weirdest， most 11）ESL 12）affectation in the world. Im waiting with a 24-year-old colleague that I hired straight from college who idolizes me and Im worried that my mom will hurt herself and that people will see.

I love my mother an abnormal amount， even when she forces me to call distant relatives， dialing the phone and pressing it into my cheek while my eyes get hot and watery. She pulls rank all the time and once judo-flipped me on my back in a grocery store to remind me where things stood. She is my favorite and it makes me crazy. You can tell that she was popular in school， but I am a fundamentally more popular person. I care more and Im great at rules. Ive known it since the first grade.

When I was small I thought I was cooler than my mom because of how foreign she is. Shes really foreign. Youd think it would kill her to get store-bought snacks， shes that foreign. She grew up in a Korea filled with Koreans， married a Korean and then moved to Hong Kong in her mid-30s. I was 11 months and my brother was two years. This was back when Hong Kong was a British colony， which meant we were living in Asia with heaps of Australians and bronzed Europeans who dated Filipino women. In any case， I speak four languages and am a ruthless assimilation ninja.

My mother， on the other hand， speaks English poorly with a 13）screwy， 14）poncy Korean British accent， as if she learned it from watching a 1960s 15）MerchantIvory movie. Shes also ridiculously formal， deeply private and not a joiner. She transitions poorly. The move to Hong Kong with two 16）wee kids and an absentee partner was rough. My father had elected to set up a shipping company. He was out of the country for eight months of the year， and sometime around my tenth birthday I discovered that he spoke conversational Russian for reasons that remain 17）murky. All this is to say that he wasnt around a lot.

School was awful. Lunch sucked. My mom would pack the dumbest garbage. She once 18）smeared bits of raw garlic left over from making 19）kimchi onto white sandwich bread， thinking thats how the garlic bread advertised at Pizza Hut was born. I waited until she got off work that night and yelled at her with 20）rank breath. Id eaten most of the seemingly innocent square， elated that a sandwich had turned up at all in a lunch box that usually contained punishment food that sometimes had eyes.

One lunch， I was dragging myself around the playground when I saw my mom standing by the fence， waving big and calling my name. I wanted so badly to ignore her. She was supposed to be at work， so I was suspicious. I began to back away so she started shouting loud enough to be heard over the playground 21）din. I 22）shuffled towards her with every intention to roundhousebludgeon her with my plastered arm. She held out a paper box. It was a McDonalds happy meal： a cheeseburger one， which was my favorite. The offering was so out of character that I considered it a bribe. I asked her what was going on. She mentioned something about how she wanted me to have a lunch that I liked.

I then did what any normal kid would do and yelled and yelled about how embarrassing it was to have her at school with me during lunch of all times. She presented me with a sack of cheeseburgers that I could give out to my friends. I refused the damp bag and screeched about how it was so cheap that she didnt 23）spring for bright red boxes with toys for them as well. I made her take the burgers back with her. If I were an actress and had to think of something sad to make me cry in a scene， I would think about this moment.

I think about my mom all the time and cant stand it. When she rings during a meal I get 24）indigestion if I dont call her back immediately. I dont go home for birthdays or holidays， and on the occasions I do visit， I express my affection in strange ways. I wait for her to fall asleep， peer over her body and imagine what itd be like if she died. I just stand there， hot silent tears coursing down my face.

Were not a demonstrative family， but I love my mom and its a secret. I love her so much it kills me， and Id sooner die than tell her. I kinda want her to know though. Maybe someone could tell her for me； someone who isnt my dad， because that would be weird.

對于一個65歲的人來說，我母親健步如飛。她體型嬌小——剛好5英尺（約1.52米）——體重剛過100磅（約45.4公斤）。憑借緊湊的身型，她完全可以到美國的百貨商店青少年服飾部血拼去。恰逢奧斯汀市最忙碌的那兩個星期（一年一度的多媒體盛會——西南偏南音樂節(jié)在此舉行），站在那兒最繁忙的十字路口，我看到母親向我沖過來。這時剛過午夜十一點，交通完全陷入噩夢狀態(tài)。我母親一直熱愛運動，但自從不再染發(fā)后，她便年歲盡顯了。當她離我越來越近時，我擔心她那脆弱的小身板會撞在突然轉(zhuǎn)向的越野車引擎蓋上而徹底散架。我曾以為自己再也不會體驗那種讓父母來接的感受了。畢竟，我已經(jīng)33歲，住在紐約，只是到這里出差辦事。但他們的住處就在城外一小時車程的地方，而我決定訂酒店時為時已晚，所以只能住在他們家了。他們?yōu)榱藖斫游以诼飞隙铝藘蓚€小時的車。

我在跟父親通電話，我倆在導航專橫的聲音中大吼大叫——他正處于路怒癥狀態(tài)，而我則全身都在翻白眼——當我母親從車上跳下來朝前跑時，說明了我靠雙腳暴走還更容易些。我看到她笑容滿面，使勁揮手，一邊努力跑著，一邊用英語喚著我的全名，就像這樣：名字，姓氏。我父母都這么做，像是為了我好似的。就好像呼喚一個孩子的政府登記全名是極其隨意的事似的。就像那不是“絕對有問題”，不是世界上最奇怪、英語非母語群體里最矯情的事情似的。我和一位24歲的同事在一起等著，她是我從大學里直接招聘過來的，把我當成偶像，而我很擔心母親會受傷，而旁人會看到。

我愛我的母親愛得不得了，哪怕當她在我眼睛熱辣辣、淚汪汪時，強迫我給遠親們打電話，撥出號碼并按在我臉頰上。她總是愛發(fā)威，有一次甚至在雜貨店里將我一把摔地上，以此警告我別沒大沒小。她是我的最愛，也讓我發(fā)瘋。你可以說，她曾在學校里備受歡迎，但從根本上說來，我更加受人歡迎。我更加在意且非常遵守規(guī)則。我在一年級時就知道這一點。

當我年幼時，我認為自己比媽媽更酷，因為她實在是太外國氣了。她真的是很外國氣。你會覺得讓她吃商店里買的點心就會要了她的命似的，她就是那么外國。她在韓國長大，周圍都是韓國人，后來嫁了個韓國人，接著在35歲左右搬家到了香港。那時我11個月，我哥哥兩歲。那時候香港還是英國的殖民地，也就意味著我們雖然住在亞洲，但身邊是成堆和菲律賓女人約會的澳洲人和古銅色皮膚的歐洲人。不管怎樣，我能說四國語言，是一切兼收并蓄的“忍者”強人。

而另一方面，我母親英語說得很差，還帶著古怪而女人氣的韓國英式口音，就好像是從一部20世紀60年代莫謙特—艾佛利的電影里學來的。她還一本正經(jīng)得可笑，極其孤僻，不喜社交。她不太能調(diào)適新的生活。帶著兩個年幼的孩子搬到香港且伴侶不在身邊，生活很艱難。我父親被選去創(chuàng)辦一家船運公司。他一年里有八個月不在國內(nèi)，而在我十歲生日左右時，我發(fā)現(xiàn)他能用俄語會話，但至今原因不明。所有這一切都說明了，他經(jīng)常不在我們身邊。

學校生活很糟糕。午餐很難吃。我母親總會給我打包帶上最糟的垃圾食物。她有一次甚至在白三明治面包上抹上了許多做泡菜后剩下的生大蒜，認為必勝客廣告里宣傳的蒜蓉面包就是這樣誕生的。那天晚上我一直等到她下班之后，帶著難聞的口氣沖著她大叫。我吃掉了大部分看起來干凈的邊角，還挺滿心歡喜的，畢竟午餐盒里裝著的是三明治，而非通常那種有時候還帶著眼珠子的讓人受罪的食物。

一天午餐時，我正吃力地繞著操場行走，我看到母親站在柵欄旁，大力地揮著手，叫著我的名字。我真想忽視她的存在。她本應該在上班的，因此我滿心狐疑。我開始往回走，于是她開始越叫越大聲，蓋過了整個操場的喧鬧聲。我拖著腳步向她走去，滿心是掄圓了我那打了石膏的手臂痛打她一頓的念頭。她拿出一個紙盒。那是麥當勞的開心樂園餐：一份有芝士漢堡的套餐，那是我的最愛。這份大餐實在是太不像她的作風了，所以我認為這是一份賄賂。我問她發(fā)生了什么事。她提到類似于她很希望我能夠吃到一份自己喜歡的午餐之類的事。

于是我就像其他普通孩子會做的那樣，沖著她大喊大叫，說她什么時候不好挑，偏偏在午餐時到學校來看我，這是多么讓人尷尬啊。她給了我一袋芝士漢堡，讓我拿給朋友們分享。我拒絕接受那個濕巴巴的袋子，尖叫著說那東西廉價，她為什么沒有也給他們買裝著玩具的亮紅色盒子。我讓她把漢堡帶回去。如果我是個演員，不得不想些傷感的事來讓自己在某個場景中流淚，我會想到這一刻。

我一直都很想念母親，這讓我無法忍受。當她在吃飯時間打電話過來，如果不馬上回她電話，我就會消化不良。我不會回家過生日或是節(jié)日，而當我確實回家看他們時，我總是用奇怪的方式表達我的情感。我等到她睡熟以后，凝視她的身體，想象著如果她去世了會怎樣。我就站在那里，熱辣辣的眼淚靜靜地滑落我的臉龐。

我們并不是一個感情外露的家庭，但我愛我母親，而這是個秘密。我愛她如此之深卻讓我痛苦不堪，但我情愿死也不愿告訴她。盡管如此，我還是挺希望她能知道。也許有人能幫我告訴她；那個人不能是我父親，因為那會很奇怪。