母親的心

M y sweetheart Paul and I had 1）eloped to 2）Yuma 3）on a whim. It was the most romantic and thrilling weekend of my life. Leaving town was easy but coming back on Sunday night to face our parents was hard. We had a huge wedding planned for the following September—but this was May， and Paul was home on his first leave from the Marine Reserves 4）boot camp.

Paul’s parents joined us at my parents’ house the evening we returned. We hoped this would be a happy meeting of our newly merged families.

Seated around the living room， Paul’s mother was the first to speak.

“I don’t think Paul and Sallie should stay married！ They are too young. How will he support a wife？ Where will they live？ We need to get this marriage 5）an1ed！” my mother-in-law shouted to the family members assembled at my parents’ house.

BAM！ My father had let her rant for several minutes before his fist hit the coffee table with a loud slap. “If these kids want to stay married， then by God they’re gonna stay married，” he yelled back.

He turned to Paul. “Do you want to stay married？”Turning to me， he said， “Sallie， do you want to stay married？”We both nodded yes， our eyes wide at all this drama.

“Then they can live with us until Paul gets home permanently，” my dad said in a calmer tone. Case closed！

Mrs. Rodman had been 6）thwarting me at every turn， trying to postpone the wedding plans. She even went so far as to tell Paul we were too young and we were from two different classes and he needed to marry a college graduate. On and on the objections went.

Sure， I was only nineteen and had one year of college. But we were both from middle-class families， although I admit I probably had a few more material advantages since Paul came from a family of eleven.

We did stay married， but to 7）appease his mother we lived apart one week until we could be married in our church. After Paul’s basic training as a 8）reservist was over， he went back to his job.

My new mother-in-law didn’t come around much since Paul’s father was ill. They had a family tragedy and their house burned down. She was working and running in so many directions.

Meanwhile our family had grown， with a son and then a daughter， one year apart. I hoped when things got back to normal we could talk. Perhaps I could win my mother-in-law over since I love her son so much and she adored him too. But that was not to be.

The entire chain of events came crashing down early one cold February morning three years into our marriage. I wrote a poem about it：

The Final Revenge

A phone ringing， ringing， breaking the 5 o’clock morning.

My husband plunging through the door where the white

wall phone stubbornly commands.

From the bedroom， my curiosity arousing itself from a

long night’s sleep.

The words ambulance and hospital send me reeling

through the door.

Thoughts flashing through my brain like summer

lightning.

But no， it’s not my mother， older and graying.

The younger woman has been chosen instead.

My husband replaces the phone into its slot，

tears running down his face.

“She is dead； my mom is dead.”

We are rocking back and forth in each other’s arms.

He cries for her， I cry for him.

Her words echo in my mind，

“You stole my favorite son！”

A sudden thought.

What’s today？

Mon， February 20th.

Recognition.

My birthday.

I whisper to myself， “Happy birthday， kiddo.”

Forever on this day he will remember

Who was born and who died.

And so I never got to know this woman， my husband’s mother. I soon forget her 9）slights and unkind words since she was absent from our lives and I was busy with two toddlers. I did vow that when my children grew up and married， I would welcome their choices with warm hugs and loving words no matter what.

Now here I am forty-seven years later. My husband Paul died a little over three years ago. It recently dawned on me while lying in bed one morning and thinking about him that， since I believe he is in heaven， his mom is probably with him. I found myself overcome with anger and jealousy.

I wanted to yell out. “You can’t have him. He is mine！ I 10）loved him to the moon and back. We were happily married for so many years. Wasn’t that enough for you？”

Then I realized I still haven’t forgiven her. I recently spoke to my husband’s sister Joan. I confided my feelings about their mom， hoping she could help me. She counseled me. “Oh Sallie， Mom was like that with every date we brought home. She just loved her kids so much she was afraid of them being hurt. It wasn’t personal.”

Acceptance is replacing the anger， as I realize what I actually had in common with my mother-in-law—we both loved our children， and moms only want the very best for their kids. Sometimes we overstep， but our hearts are in the right place. That is something I do understand and can certainly forgive her for.

My only hope is that when Paul talks to her in heaven he tells her， “See Mom， she was a keeper！ Forty-six years—and you thought it would never last.”

我和愛人保羅心血來潮，逃到了尤馬。那是我人生中最浪漫、最刺激的一個周末。離開我們的城市很容易，但要在星期天回來面對我們的父母卻很困難。到了九月的時候，我們計劃舉辦一場盛大的婚禮，但現在才五月，這是保羅第一次從海洋自然保護區的新兵訓練營那里回來。

我們回來的那個晚上，保羅的父母過來和我父母見面。我們希望這新結成的一家能愉快會面。

在客廳坐下后，保羅的母親第一個開口說話了。

“我認為保羅和薩莉就不應該結婚！他們太年輕了。他怎么養得起一個妻子？他們要住哪里？我們應該解除這段婚姻關系。我婆婆對聚在我父母房子里的家人大喊道。

砰！在她咆哮了幾分鐘后，我爸爸一拳砸在咖啡桌上，發出響亮的一聲。“如果這兩個孩子想要結婚，那么就是上帝的旨意，他們就該保持這段婚姻關系，”他吼回去。

他對保羅說，“你想要結婚嗎？”他轉向我，說道，“薩莉，你想結婚嗎？”我們倆都點頭說想，瞪大雙眼看著這充滿戲劇性的一幕。

“那么在保羅擁有自己的房子前，他們可以先和我們住在一起，”我爸爸語氣平靜了些，如此說道。一切塵埃落定！

羅德曼太太一直在處處貶低我，竭力拖延這場婚禮。她甚至跟保羅說我們倆太年輕了，而且我們的階層不一樣，他應該娶一個大學畢業生。她不斷地反對。

沒錯，我那時只有19歲，還有一年才大學畢業。但我們兩個都是來自中產階級的家庭，我承認我可能在物質條件上比保羅要好上一點，因為他們家有十一個孩子。……