The Hardest Work You Will Ever Do 最難做的事

The Hardest Work You Will Ever Do　最難做的事

◎ Mary Cook


The day my fiance fell to his death, it started to snow, just like any November day, just like the bottom hadn’t fallen out of my world when he free fell off the roof. His body, when I found it, was lightly covered with snow. It snowed almost every day for the next four months, while I sat on the couch and watched it pile up.
One morning, I shuffled downstairs and was startled to see a snowplow clearing my driveway and the bent back of a woman shoveling my walk. I dropped to my knees, crawled through the living room, and back upstairs so those good Samaritans would not see me. I was mortified. My first thought was, how would I ever repay them? I didn’t have the strength to brush my hair let alone shovel someone’s walk.
Before Jon’s death, I took pride in the fact that I rarely asked for help or favors. I defined myself by my competence and independence. So who was I if I was no longer capable and busy? How could I respect myself if all I did was sit on the couch everyday and watch the snow fall?
Learning how to receive the love and support that came my way wasn’t easy. Friends cooked for me and I cried because I couldn’t even help them set the table. “I’m not usually this lazy.” I wailed. Finally, my friend Kathy sat down with me and said, “Mary, cooking for you is not a chore. I love you and I want to do it. It makes me feel good to be able to do something for you.”
Over and over, I heard similar sentiments from the people who supported me during those dark days. One very wise man told me, “You are not doing anything. Being fully open to your grief may be the hardest work you will ever do.”
I am not the person I once was, but in many ways I have changed for the better. The fabric of my life is now woven with gratitude and humility. I have been surprised to learn that there is incredible freedom that comes from facing one’s worst fear and walking away whole. I believe there is strength in surrender.


我未婚夫去世的那天，天開始下雪，就仿佛是十一月某個(gè)普通的一天，就仿佛當(dāng)他從房頂上跌下時(shí)，我的世界并沒有垮塌。當(dāng)我發(fā)現(xiàn)他時(shí)，他的身體上已經(jīng)薄薄地蓋上了一層雪花。之后的四個(gè)月，幾乎每天都在下雪，而我就坐在沙發(fā)上，看著雪一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)堆積起來(lái)。
一天早上，我慢吞吞地下樓，卻吃驚地看到一臺(tái)掃雪機(jī)正在清掃我的車道，還有一個(gè)女人正彎腰鏟去走道上的雪。為了不讓外面的好心人看到，我跪在地上，慢慢地爬過(guò)客廳，回到樓上。真是難為情。我的一個(gè)想法就是，我怎么報(bào)答他們？我情緒低落得連梳頭的力氣都沒有，更不用說(shuō)幫別人鏟雪了。
瓊恩去世之前，我把自己定位成一個(gè)獨(dú)立能干的人，我很少向別人尋求幫助和關(guān)心，并為此而自豪。如果我不再忙碌，不再有能力，那么我是誰(shuí)？如果我整天只是蜷在沙發(fā)上看著窗外飄落的雪花，我從哪里獲得自尊？
學(xué)習(xí)如何接受別人的愛和幫助并不簡(jiǎn)單。朋友們?yōu)槲易鲲?，我哭了，因?yàn)槲疑踔敛荒軒退麄償[餐具。“我通常沒有這么懶”，我哭著說(shuō)。最后，我朋友凱西坐在我旁邊，安慰我說(shuō)：“瑪麗，為你做飯不是個(gè)苦差事。我愛你，我很愿意這么做。能夠幫上忙讓我感覺很好。”
一次又一次，在我人生中黑暗的日子里，那些人用充滿感情的話來(lái)安慰我。一個(gè)很聰明的人告訴過(guò)我：“你并不是無(wú)所事事。完全無(wú)保留地直面悲傷，這可能是最難做的事。”
我已經(jīng)不是以前的我，很多方面我都變得更好了?，F(xiàn)在，我生命的錦緞是由感恩和謙恭織成的。我很驚奇地了解到，當(dāng)你面對(duì)自己最痛苦、最可怕的經(jīng)歷，堅(jiān)強(qiáng)地挺過(guò)來(lái)，你會(huì)感受到難以置信的自由。我相信，當(dāng)你直面現(xiàn)實(shí)時(shí)，你會(huì)獲得力量。