雙語·當呼吸化為空氣 保羅所傳遞的信息

保羅在《當呼吸化為空氣》中所傳遞的信息，很強烈，也很獨特，但也有些孤獨。和這個故事并行的，是圍繞在他身邊的愛與溫暖，當然也有適度給予的空間和放任。在時間與空間中，我們都有著不同的自我。這其中的他是個醫(yī)生，也是個病患，并處于醫(yī)患關系當中。他在字里行間的個性非常鮮明，顯然他時日無多，顯然他是個永無止境的奮斗者，當然還有其他的自我，是書中沒有充分展現(xiàn)的。比如保羅的幽默感，他是個很調皮很有趣的人；還有他的體貼和溫柔，他對朋友家人的重視。但這就是他寫的書，是他在這段時間里想要發(fā)出的聲音、傳遞的信息。需要寫下來的時候，他就寫下來了。說心里話，我最想念的那個保羅，竟然不是與我初墜愛河、風度翩翩、身強體健的保羅，而是生命最后一年那個全神貫注、散發(fā)著人性光輝的男人，是那個寫下這本書的保羅——身體病弱，但精神不倒。
Paul’s voice in When Breath Becomes Air is strong and distinctive, but also somewhat solitary. Parallel to this story are the love and warmth and spaciousness and radical permission that surrounded him. We all inhabit different selves in space and time. Here he is as a doctor, as a patient, and within a doctor-patient relationship. He wrote with a clear voice, the voice of someone with limited time, a ceaseless striver, though there were other selves as well. Not fully captured in these pages are Paul’s sense of humor—he was wickedly funny—or his sweetness and tenderness, the value he placed on relationships with friends and family. But this is the book he wrote; this was his voice during this time; this was his message during this time; this was what he wrote when he needed to write it. Indeed, the version of Paul I miss most, more even than the robust, dazzling version with whom I first fell in love, is the beautiful, focused man he was in his last year, the Paul who wrote this book—frail but never weak.

保羅很為這本書自豪，這算是充分體現(xiàn)了他對文學的熱愛。他曾經說過，比起《圣經》，詩歌更能給他心靈的撫慰。這本書也展現(xiàn)了他的能力，能夠從自己的生活出發(fā)，講述一個與死神同行的故事，扣人心弦，充滿力量。2013年5月1日，保羅給最好的朋友寫郵件，告訴他自己得了癌癥。郵件里寫道：“好消息是，我已經比勃朗特三姐妹中的兩個，還有濟慈和斯蒂芬·克萊恩都活得長了。壞消息是，我還什么都沒寫呢。”那之后他就走上了“轉型之旅”，滿懷激情地從過去的事業(yè)投入新的事業(yè)，從丈夫的角色轉變?yōu)橐粋€父親，當然，最終也完成由生到死的轉變。這是我們所有人都將面對的終極轉變。我很驕傲，在這整個過程中充當他的伴侶，包括陪伴他寫這本書。寫作令他滿懷希望地活著，就像他以美妙的文采在書中寫的：人的特性和機遇，有著一種魔力。也是這種魔力賦予了他希望，一直寫下去，直到生命的盡頭。
Paul was proud of this book, which was a culmination of his love for literature—he once said that he found poetry more comforting than Scripture—and his ability to forge from his life a cogent, powerful tale of living with death. When Paul emailed his best friend in May 2013 to inform him that he had terminal cancer, he wrote, “The good news is I’ve already outlived two Bront. s, Keats, and Stephen Crane. The bad news is that I haven’t written anything.” His journey thereafter was one of transformation—from one passionate vocation to another, from husband to father, and finally, of course, from life to death, the ultimate transformation that awaits us all. I am proud to have been his partner throughout, including while he wrote this book, an act that allowed him to live with hope, with that delicate alchemy of agency and opportunity that he writes about so elo-quently, until the very end.

保羅被安放進一個柳木棺槨，葬在圣克魯斯山上一片田野的邊緣，可以俯瞰太平洋和海岸線。沿途充滿了回憶——步履輕快的遠足、海鮮大餐、慶生的雞尾酒。兩個月前的1月份，一個和暖的周末，我們在山下一個沙灘上，把卡迪胖乎乎的小腳浸入咸咸的海水中。保羅對于自己死后肉身的去向并不在意，讓我們代表他做決定。我想我們這個選擇還不錯。保羅的墳塋朝西，越過大約八公里翠綠的山巔，與大海遙遙相望。他周圍的山丘野草叢生，針葉樹木繁茂，黃色大戟屬植物漫山遍野。在墳前坐下，你能聽到風在吹拂，鳥在啁啾，還有花栗鼠窸窸窣窣匆忙的腳步。一路走到這里，他付出了很多努力。他的墳冢也充滿了堅強與榮耀，他值得擁有這樣一塊安眠之地——我們都值得擁有這樣一塊安眠之地。這個地方讓我想起祖父從前很喜歡的一句禱告：“我們會在不知不覺間徐徐上升，來到永恒的山巔，那里的風多么涼爽，那里的景色多么輝煌?！?br>Paul was buried in a willow casket at the edge of a field in the Santa Cruz Mountains, overlooking the Pacific Ocean and a coastline studded with memories—brisk hikes, seafood feasts, birthday cocktails. Two months before, on a warm weekend in January, we’d dipped Cady’s chubby feet into the briny water at a beach below. He was unattached to the fate of his body after he died, and he left it to us to make decisions on his behalf. I believe we chose well. Paul’s grave looks west, over five miles of green hillcrests, to the ocean. Around him are hills covered in wild grass, coniferous trees, and yellow euphorbia. As you sit down, you hear wind, chirping birds, the scuffling of chipmunks. He made it here on his own terms, and his grave site feels appropriately full of rugedness and honor, a place he deserves to be—a place we all deserve to be. I am reminded of a line from a blessing my grandfather liked: “We shall rise insensibly, and reach the tops of the everlasting hills, where the winds are cool and the sight is glorious.”

但總是待在這里也并非易事。山頂?shù)奶鞖庾兓喽?，而保羅被埋在山的迎風面，我來看他的時候，分別遭遇過烈日、濃霧和刺骨的冷雨。平常的日子這里有多寧靜，天氣差起來就有多不舒服——既孤獨靜謐，又飽受外界環(huán)境的影響，正如死亡，正如悲痛。但這一切當中都蘊含了美，我覺得這樣很好，很恰如其分。
And yet this is not always an easy place to be. The weather is unpredictable. Because Paul is buried on the windward side of the mountains, I have visited him in blazing sun, shrouding fog and cold, stinging rain. It can be as uncomfortable as it is peaceful, both communal and lonely—like death, like grief—but there is beauty in all of it, and I think this is good and right.

我常常去看他，拿著一小瓶馬德拉群島產的酒。我倆是在那里度的蜜月。每次我都會倒一點在草地上給保羅喝。保羅的父母兄弟和我一起來看他時，我一邊和他們聊天，一邊揉著那些青草，仿佛那是保羅的頭發(fā)?？ǖ弦矔谛∷皝砜窗职?，躺在一塊毯子上，注視著頭頂?shù)脑凭碓剖?，抓著我們放在那里的鮮花。保羅的追悼會前夜，家里的兄弟姐妹和我，還有保羅最親密的二十個老朋友一起聚在這里。有那么短暫的一瞬間，我擔心墳前的草會不會被我們給破壞了，因為倒了太多威士忌給保羅喝。
I visit his grave often, taking a small bottle of Madeira, the wine of our honeymoon destination. Each time, I pour some out on the grass for Paul. When Paul’s parents and brothers are with me, we talk as I rub the grass as if it were Paul’s hair. Cady visits his grave before her nap, lying on a blanket, watching the clouds pass overhead and grabbing at the flowers we’ve laid down. The evening before Paul’s memorial service, our siblings and I gathered with twenty of Paul’s oldest, closest friends, and I wondered briefly if we’d mar the grass because we poured out so much whiskey.

我給他帶去各種各樣的鮮花，郁金香、百合、康乃馨……常常在下次去的時候發(fā)現(xiàn)花頭都被小鹿吃了。這些花兒真是物盡其用，太棒了，保羅對此也應該是樂見的。周圍的土地很快被蟲兒翻了一遍，自然的進程一刻不停，讓我想起保羅過去的所見，也是如今深入我骨髓的記憶：生與死，誰都逃不掉，看不透，但我們有適應和處理的能力；就算無法掌控，也能因為對生與死的探尋，去尋找人生的意義。保羅的遭遇令人悲傷，但他自己，卻不是一個悲劇。
Often I return to the grave after leaving flowers— tulips, lilies, carnations—to find the heads eaten by deer. It’s just as good a use for the flowers as any, and one Paul would have liked. The earth is quickly turned over by worms, the processes of nature marching on, reminding me of what Paul saw and what I now carry deep in my bones, too: the inextricability of life and death, and the ability to cope, to find meaning despite this, because of this. What happened to Paul was tragic, but he was not a tragedy.