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有关母亲的诗词名句?写出关于母亲的诗句( 五 )


有时候 ， 我希望自己能够让时间停止 ， 让我的母亲不再变得衰老 ， 让她不再一遍遍地唠叨 。We sit at my kitchen table as the sun designs a mosaic of light on the tile floor. My daughter, Anna, sits next to my mother. "When is Rick going to be here?" my mother asks, referring to my husband. "I don't know, Mom," I answer patiently. "He'll be here for dinner." 我们坐在餐桌旁边 ， 阳光照在地板上 ， 形成马赛克状的光斑 。
我的女儿安娜就坐在我母亲旁边 。“瑞克什么时候来？”母亲问 。
瑞克是我的丈夫 。“我不知道 ， 妈妈 ， ”我耐心地回答 ， “他会来这儿吃饭 。”
I sigh and get up from the table. This is at least the tenth time she has asked that question in as many minutes. While my mother and daughter play Monopoly, I busy myself making a salad. "Don't put in any onions," Mom says. "You know how Daddy hates onions." 我叹了口气 ， 站起身来 。不大一会工夫 ， 她已经问了不下十遍了 。
妈妈和女儿在玩强手棋 ， 我则忙着做沙拉 。“别放洋葱 ， ”妈妈说 ， “你知道你爸爸有多讨厌洋葱 。”
"Yes, Mom," I answer, shoving the scallions back into the fridge. I scrub off a carrot and chop it into bite-size pieces. I thrust the knife into the carrot with more force than is necessary. A slice falls onto the floor. “好的 ， 妈妈 。”我回答道 ， 顺手把洋葱又塞进冰箱 。
我洗干净一个胡罗卜 ， 把它切成小块 。我象撒气似的用力把刀刺进胡罗卜 。
【有关母亲的诗词名句?写出关于母亲的诗句】有一片罗卜掉到了地上 。"Don't put any onions in the salad," she reminds me. "You know how Daddy hates onions." This time I can't answer. I just keep cutting. Chopping. Tearing. If only I could chop away the years. Shred the age from my mother's face and hands. “沙拉里一点洋葱也不要放 ， ”她提醒我 ， “你知道你爸爸有多讨厌洋葱 。”
这次我没有回答 。我只是不停地切着、剁着、流着泪 。
要是我能把这些年流逝的时间一扫而光就好了 。将母亲脸上、手上的岁月沧桑抚平 。
My mother had been beautiful. She still is. In fact, my mother is still everything she has been, just a bit forgetful. I try to convince myself that's all that it is, and if she really concentrated, she would not repeat herself so much. There isn't anything wrong with her. 母亲一直都很漂亮 。现在也是 。
实际上 ， 母亲基本没变 ， 只是有点健忘 。我试着说服自己 ， 就是这点问题 ， 如果她真能集中精力 ， 就不会这么一遍遍地唠叨了 。
她并没有什么毛病 。I cut off the end of the cucumber and rub it against the stalk to take away the bitterness. The white juice oozes out the sides. Wouldn't it be nice if all unpleasant situations could be so easily remedied? Cut and rub. This is a trick I have learned from my mother, along with a trillion other things: cooking, sewing, dating, laughing, thinking. I learned how to grow up. I learned the art of sorting through emotions. 我切下黄瓜的一端 ， 用它在黄瓜上摩擦以消除苦味 。
白色的汁液从边上渗出来 。如果所有的不快都能这么容易地解决 ， 这不是太好了吗？切下来 ， 然后摩擦 。
这是我从母亲那里学来的窍门 ， 除了这个 ， 还有数不清的事情：做饭 ， 缝纫、约会、笑、思考 。我学会了如何长大 ， 学会了处理感情的艺术 。
And I learned that when my mother was around, I never had to be afraid. So why am I afraid now？ 而且我知道 ， 只要母亲在旁边 ， 没有什么东西可以让我害怕 。那么 ， 现在我为什么害怕呢？ I study my mother's hands. Her nails are no longer a bright red, but painted a light pink, almost no color at all. And as I stare at them, I realize I am no longer looking at those hands but feeling them as they shaped my youth. Hands that packed a thousand lunches and wiped a million tears off my cheeks. Hands that tucked confidence into each day of my life. 我仔细端详母亲的手 。
她的指甲不再是鲜红色的了 ， 但却涂成了淡粉色 ， 那颜色淡得几乎没有 。在我端详这双手的时候 ， 我发现自己不再是看这双手 ， 而是在感觉这双塑造我青春的手 。
这是一双为我装过成千上万次午餐 ， 无数次从我的脸颊擦去泪水的手 ， 是一双在我生命中的每一天都给我信心的手 。I turn away and throw the cucumber into the bowl. And then it hits me. My。


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