By Evelyn Wong 謝如芯
10 years ago, in the middle of the night, the phone rang. The hospice called to tell me my mom was dead.
My body was ready. It had pre-programmed the anticipation, fear, adrenaline at what I had no control over. You know how your body wakes you up several times if you have an early flight, alarm be damned? Seven months prior I had felt this too when the contractions started before my first child was born.
It was the same. My mind and heart preparing for the beginning of a life, the end of a life. Fitful sleep, mind racing, logistics mixed with hysteria. Do you have your go bag? The softness of my pajamas mixed with anticipatory sweat. Tears somewhere, always. So many 🙏 emoji in my texts. My words were prayers punctuated with instructions— time to get in the car, drive through the empty streets… the absurdity at stopping at a red light. Don’t you know my mom is dead?! Don’t you know my child is coming??
Come get ready with me for the start of a relationship with a newly created person. Or the end of a relationship with a newly dead person. My body knew the playbook.
Back to right after the call— Smoothing out the seams in my cotton blanket, I tried to make sense of how utterly out of control I felt. But I could get out the creases. I could do something.
This morning I took my kids to the dentist. I plodded and Clauded through a work day and then went to the gym. Michael made a meal of my mom’s dishes. She’d be proud of his meticulousness. Recipe notes in his notebook, he did a scan of Facebook memories for inspo, started the Instant Pot at 11. Her signature daikon soup, Chinese fries, dumplings and ketchup shrimp. Calories are love. Food is memory.
10 years have passed of mothering without a mother. Without a rudder to steer my decisions or whims—should I take this job, mom, do you like Colette’s haircut, was I a picky eater too? So many laughs unlaughed, so many memories not made, so much delight withheld.
And yet I’ll keep smoothing out the creases, trusting Mom somewhere is thrilled, overjoyed with this life I’ve made.
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十年前的一個深夜，電話鈴響了。安寧中心打來電話，告訴我媽媽過世了。
我的身體早已做好準備了。它預先設定了那種期待、恐懼和腎上腺素飆升的情緒，而這一切都是我無法掌控的。你知道那種感覺嗎？如果你要趕早班飛機，即使鬧鐘響了，你的身體也會吵醒你好幾次。我懷第一個孩子的時候，羊水破的時候，我也經歷過這種感覺。
一切都一樣。我的身心都在為生命的開始和結束做準備。睡眠斷斷續續，思緒萬千，各種瑣事和歇斯底里交織在一起。你的應急包準備好了嗎？睡衣的柔軟與預感帶來的汗水交織在一起。眼淚總是在某個地方，總是在某個地方。我的簡訊裡充滿了🙏表情符號。我的話語如同祈禱，夾雜著指令 - 該上車了，駛過空蕩蕩的街道……在紅燈前停車是多麼荒謬。難道你不知道我媽媽過世了嗎？ ！難道你不知道我的孩子即將出生嗎？來吧，和我一起準備迎接一段與新生兒的關係的開始，或是與一位已逝者關係的結束。我的身體早已熟知這一切。
回到通話結束後的那一刻 - 我撫平棉毯的褶皺，試圖理解自己為何如此徹底地失控。但我可以撫平褶皺，我可以做些什麼。
今天早上我帶孩子去看牙醫。我拖著疲憊的身體，一邊工作一邊哼著小曲，然後去了健身房。麥可把媽媽的菜做了一頓飯。她, 媽媽, 一定會為他的細緻而驕傲。他在筆記本上記下食譜，瀏覽了臉書的回憶尋找靈感，11 點就啟動了電壓力鍋。媽媽拿手的白蘿蔔湯、薯條、餃子和番茄醬蝦一一上桌。卡路里就是愛，食物就是記憶。
十年過去了，我撫養著孩子, 失去母親, 沒有另外一個舵來引導我的決定和抑制我的任性, "媽媽，我該接受這份工作嗎？你喜歡你小孫女的髮型嗎？我小時候跟我女兒一樣也是個挑食的孩子嗎？"那麼多歡笑未曾綻放，那麼多回憶未曾創造，那麼多快樂被剝奪。
然而，我依然會撫平皺紋，相信媽媽在某個地方會為我創造的這一切感到無比欣慰和喜悅.
包廂外面有一條很寬的走道，我走出去上廁所，因為有些醉了，是搖搖晃晃走去的，走道是一條頗寬的長廊，舖有很厚的地毯，走在上面覺得自己頗有皇家風範，有些時候喝點酒蠻好的，醺醺酒意，忽然間以為自己是大人物，
我沒有上岸去聽音樂會, 所以就不跟您分享今天原先安排的曲目的音樂, 我這裏放給您聽的是 Romance de Amore 愛的羅曼史, 我年輕的時候很會彈這首曲子, 常常彈給孩子們聽. 謝謝您讓我每天”特別問安”, 您知道嗎? 電腦上寫中文字真是快樂, 看著一個個美麗的方塊字跟著你的手指誕生, 方塊字每個都是故事, 我們有幸懂中文, 知道象形, 假借, 形聲等等文字發展的歷史, 就好像西方人, 當他們享受古典音樂的時候, 那種”理直氣壯, 理所當然”的快樂, 是難以筆墨形容的.
我一面聽這首曲子, 一面想起 2004 年我和 Ann 在 Hofburg 的皇家教堂參加望彌撒, 聽維也納少年合唱團在彌撤裏獻詩, 很少人知道用這個方式可以聽到維也納少年合唱團的表演, 那天是星期天, 一大早的彌撒結束後, 我和 Ann 走在空蕩的 Hofburg 內的小廣場, 美麗的詩歌仍在腦海腦海中盪漾，我們深深體會到音樂在信仰上扮演的角色,