新视野大学英语3
U1
Love without limitations
My brother, Jimmy, did not get enough oxygen during a difficult delivery, leaving him with brain damage, and two years later I was born. Since then, my life revolved around my brother’s. Accompanying my growing up was always “go out and play and take your brother with you”. I couldn’t go anywhere without him, so I urged the neighborhood kids to come to my house for some out-of-control kid-centered fun.
My mother taught Jimmy practical things like how to brush his teeth or put on belt. My father, a saint, simply held the house together with his patience and understanding. I was in charge outside where I administered justice by tracking down the parents of the kids who picked on my brother, and telling on them. My father and Jimmy were inseparable. They ate breakfast together and on weekdays drove off to the navy shipping center every morning where they both worked-Jimmy unloaded color-coded boxes. At night after dinner, they would talk and play games late into the evening. They even whistled the same tunes. So when my father died of a heart attack in 1991, Jimmy was a wreck, beneath his careful disguise. He was simply in disbelief. Usually very agreeable, he now quit speaking altogether and no amount of words could penetrate the vacant expression he wore on his face. I hired someone to live with him and drive him to work, but no matter how much I tried to make things stay the same, even Jimmy grasped that the world he’d known was gone. One day I asked, ”You miss Dad, don’t you?” His lips quivered and then he asked, “What do you think, Margaret? He was my best friend.” Our tears began flow.
My mother died of lung cancer six months later and I alone was left to look after Jimmy.
He didn’t adjust to going to work without my father right away, so he came and lived with me in New York City for a while. He went wherever I went and seemed to adjust pretty well. Still, Jimmy longed to live in my parents’ house and work at his old job and I pledged to help him return. Eventually, I was able to work it out. He has lived there for 11 years now with many different caretakers and blossomed on his own. He has become essential to the neighborhood. When you have any mail to be picked up or your dog needs walking, he is your man.
My mother was right, of course: It was possible to have a home with room for both his limitations and my ambitions. In fact, caring for someone who loves as deeply and appreciates my efforts as much as Jimmy does has enriched my life more than anything else ever could have.
This hit home a few days after the September 11th disaster on Jimmy’s 57th birthday. I had a party for him in my home in New York, but none of our family
could join us because travel was difficult and they were still reckoning with the sheer terror the disaster had brought. I called on my faithful friends to help make it a merry and festive occasion, ignoring the fact that most of them were emotionally drained and exhausted. Instead of the customary “No gifts, please”, I shouted, “Gifts! Please!”
My friends-people Jimmy had come to know over the years-brought the ideal presents: country music CDs, a sweatshirt, one leather belt with “J-I-M-M-Y” on it, a knitted wool hat and a cowboy costume. The evening led up to the gifts and then the chocolate cake from his favorite bakery, and of course the ceremony wasn’t complete without the singing.
A thousand times Jimmy asked, ”Is it time for the cake yet?” After dinner and the gifts Jimmy could no longer be restrained. He anxiously waited for the candles to be lit and then blew them out with one long breath as well all sang “Happy birthday”. Jimmy wasn’t satisfied with our effort, though. He jumped up on the chair and stood erect pointing both index fingers into the air to conduct us and yelled, ”One…more…time!” We sang with all of the energy left in our souls and when we were finished he put both his thumbs up and shouted. “ That was super!”
We had wanted to let him know that no matter how difficult things got in the world, there would always be people who cared about him. We ended up reminding ourselves instead. For Jimmy, the love with which we sang was a welcome bonus, but mostly he had just wanted to see everyone else happy again.
Just as my father’s death had changed Jimmy’s world overnight, September 11th changed our lives; the world we’d known was gone. But, as we sang for Jimmy and held each tight afterward praying for peace around the world, we were reminded that the constant love and support of our friends and family would get us through whatever life might present. The simplicity with which Jimmy had reconciled everything for us should not have been surprising. There had never been limitations to what Jimmy’s love could accomplish.
无限的爱
我哥哥吉米出生时遇上难产，因为缺氧导致大脑受损。两年后，我出生了。 从此以后，我的生活便围绕我哥哥转。
伴随我成长的，是“到外面去玩，把你哥哥也带上。”
不带上他，我是哪里也去不了的。因此，我怂恿邻居的孩子到我家来，尽情地玩孩子们玩的游戏。
我母亲教吉米学习日常自理，比如刷牙或系皮带什么的。 我父亲宅心仁厚，他的耐心和理解使一家人心贴着心。 我则负责外面的事，找到那些欺负我哥哥的孩子们的父母，告他们的状，为我哥哥讨回公道。
父亲和吉米形影不离。
他们一道吃早饭，平时每天早上一道开车去海军航运中心，他们都在那里工作，吉米在那搬卸标有彩色代号的箱子。
晚饭后，他们一道交谈，玩游戏，直到深夜。 他们甚至用口哨吹相同的曲调。
所以，父亲1991年因心脏病去世时，吉米几乎崩溃了，尽管他尽量不表现出来。 他就是不能相信父亲去世这一事实。
通常，他是一个令人愉快的人，现在却一言不发，无论说多少话都不能透过他木然的脸部表情了解他的心事。
我雇了一个人和他住在一起，开车送他去上班。然而，不管我怎么努力地维持原状，吉米还是认为他熟悉的世界已经消失了。 有一天，我问他：“你是不是想念爸爸？” 他的嘴唇颤抖了几下，然后问我：“你怎么看，玛格丽特？他是我最好的朋友。” 接着，我俩都流下了眼泪。
六个月后，母亲因肺癌去世，剩下我一人来照顾吉米。
吉米不能马上适应去上班时没有父亲陪着，因此搬来纽约和我一起住了一段时间。 我走到哪里他就跟到哪里，他好像适应得很好。
但吉米依然想住在我父母的房子里，继续干他原来的工作。我答应把他送回去。 此事最后做成了。
如今，他在那里生活了11年，在许多人的照料下，同时依靠自己生活得有声有色。 他已成了邻里间不可或缺的人物。
如果你有邮件要收，或有狗要遛，他就是你所要的人。
当然，母亲的话没错：可以有一个家，既能容纳他的缺陷又能装下我的雄心。
事实上，关照像吉米这样一个深爱又感激我的人，更加丰富了我的生活，其他任何东西都不能与之相比。
这一点，在9·11灾难后几天更显真切。那天是吉米57岁生日。
我在纽约自己的家里为他举办生日宴会，但是我们家的人都没能来参加，因为交通困难，而且灾难带来的恐惧使他们依然心有余悸。
我邀请了我的好友，请他们来帮忙把宴会弄得热闹些，增加点欢快气氛，没去理会他们多数人在情感上都有些疲惫这一事实。
于是我一反常态，没说“请不要带礼物”，而是向他们喊“请带礼物来”。
我的朋友──吉米认识他们多年了──带来了中意的礼物：乡村音乐CD、一件长袖运动衫、一条有“吉米”字样的皮带、一顶编织的羊毛帽，还有一套牛仔服。
那天晚上，我们先是送礼物，然后是切从他喜欢的面包店里买来的巧克力蛋糕，当然还唱了“生日歌”，否则宴会就不算完整了。
吉米一次次地问：“该切蛋糕了吧？”
等用完餐和送完礼物后，吉米再也控制不住了。
他焦急地等着点上蜡烛，然后在我们“生日快乐”的歌声中，一口长气吹灭了蜡烛。户