食為先, 愛相連

I’ve been pushing the cart for 28 years now. It

started in 1981， when grocery shopping was a family affair: father， mother， two older sisters and me.

My father had been living in the States for a number of years by himself， trying to establish a business and a home， so trips to the supermarket were 1)old hat to him. But for the rest of us newcomers， it was quite the opposite. In Seoul， I was used to small corner shops and the outdoor farmers’ market， where earthy 2)bok choy and sea-fresh 3)squid were sold on the street. So， to walk into a brightly-lighted warehouse in Ocean， N.J.， offering an unending variety of goods， was at once exciting and 4)daunting.

Not for long， though. The thing about being thrust into a completely different culture when you

時(shí)至今日， 我已推著購物車走過了

28年。最初是在1981年，當(dāng)時(shí)去雜貨店購物是一件牽動全家的事情，父親、母親、兩個(gè)姐姐和我都會參加。

父親獨(dú)自在美國居住了多年，努力創(chuàng)業(yè)并建立家庭，因此，去超市購物對他來說早已習(xí)以為常。但對于初到美國的我們，情況剛好相反。在首爾，我常常在街角小店或戶外的農(nóng)貿(mào)市場購買食品，在那里，你可以看到街上商販?zhǔn)圪u沾著泥土的白菜和散發(fā)著海水氣息的魷魚。所以，當(dāng)我走進(jìn)新澤西州大洋城一家燈火輝煌的大商店時(shí)，那里陳列著的數(shù)不清的商品頓時(shí)讓我覺得既興奮又畏懼。

但這種感覺并未持續(xù)很久。在年幼的時(shí)候被推入一個(gè)完全不同的

As I leaned my 21)hung-over body into the cart and pushed it around that empty stadium of a store， I would flash back to my mother comparing two jars of strawberry jam， trying to figure out why one was more expensive than the other.

Now as my father has died， we’re down to two. Every other week I visit my mother and go grocery shopping with her. I look forward to it because it’s our time together， and as the years fly by， I know more than ever it won’t always be like this.

22)Costco may be our favorite place for big shopping， but I enjoy taking my mother to the Korean grocer in town even more， because there， she’s the boss. She navigates those 23)kimchiand 24)nori-stacked aisles with confidence while I’m the one who lags behind， and she is always persuading the shop owner to throw in a 25)freebie when she makes a large purchase. Watching her there， I can’t help but wonder if she wishes to return to her homeland， where nothing would be a mystery. I know she would miss me and my sisters， but at this point， her job is done. She has given up so much for us， so isn’t it finally time for her to live in comfort? The other day， as we walked by a skyscraper of canned tomatoes， I asked her this very question. “I think about it，”she said， and she paused， as if she was doing exactly that. “I would understand everything， but you know， that’s not home anymore.”

Neither is New Jersey， but apparently， as long as I keep pushing the cart， she’s happy to walk along with me.

當(dāng)我余醉未醒的身體俯靠著購物車，推著它在空無一人的店內(nèi)轉(zhuǎn)悠時(shí)，我的腦海會閃現(xiàn)母親比較兩罐草莓醬的情景，那時(shí)的她正試圖找出一瓶比另一瓶貴的原因。

如今，父親已經(jīng)去世，只剩下我和母親兩個(gè)一起購物。每隔一個(gè)星期，我就會去看她一次，和她一起去食品店購物。我滿心期待，因?yàn)槲覀兛梢砸煌冗^那段時(shí)光，隨著光陰流逝，我比以往任何時(shí)候都更清楚這樣的時(shí)刻不會永存。

好市多可能是我們大量購物時(shí)最喜歡去的地方，但我更喜歡和母親去鎮(zhèn)上的韓國雜貨店，因?yàn)樵谀抢铮?母親說了算。她自信地在堆滿泡菜和紫菜的過道中間穿梭，而我只能跟隨其后， 當(dāng)她買很多東西時(shí)， 她總能說服店主送她一樣贈品?？此谀莾旱淖匀缟駪B(tài)，我不禁想：她是否希望重回故土。……