the notebook-恋恋笔记本(英文版)-第21部分

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ns。　Letters　to　nieces；　nephews　and　neighbours。　And　a　letter　to　me。

I　read　it　sometimes　when　I　am　in　the　mood　and；　when　I　do；　I　am　reminded　of　Allie　on　cold　winter　evenings；　seated　by　a　roaring　fire　with　a　glass　of　wine　at　her　side；　reading　the　letters　I　had　written　to　her　over　the　years。　She　kept　them；　these　letters；　and　now　I　keep　them；　for　she　made　me　promise　to　do　so。　She　said　I　would　know　what　to　do　with　them。　She　was　right；　I　find　I　enjoy　reading　bits　and　pieces　of　them　just　as　she　used　to。　They　intrigue　me；　for　when　I　sift　through　them　I　realize　that　romance　and　passion　are　possible　at　any　age。　I　see　Allie　now　and　know　I've　never　loved　her　more；　but　as　I　read　the　letters；　I　e　to　understand　that　I　have　always　felt　the　same　way。

　I　read　them　last　three　evenings　ago；　long　after　I　should　have　been　asleep。　It　was　almost　two　o'clock　when　I　went　to　the　desk　and　found　the　stack　of　letters；　thick　and　weathered。　I　untied　the　ribbon；　itself　almost　half　a　century　old；　and　found　the　letters　her　mother　had　hidden　so　long　ago　and　those　from　afterwards。　A　lifetime　of　letters；　letters　professing　my　love；　letters　from　my　heart。　I　glanced　through　them　with　a　smile　on　my　face；　picking　and　choosing；　and　finally　opened　a　letter　from　our　first　anniversary。

I　read　an　excerpt：

When　I　see　you　now—moving　slowly　with　new　life　growing　inside　you—I　hope　you　know　how　much　you　mean　to　me；　and　how　special　this　year　has　been。　No　man　is　more　blessed　than　me；　and　I　love　you　with　all　my　heart。

I　put　it　aside　and　found　another；　this　one　from　a　cold　evening　thirty…nine　years　ago：

Sitting　next　to　you；　while　our　youngest　daughter　sang　off…key　in　the　school　Christmas　show；　I　looked　at　you　and　saw　a　pride　that　es　only　to　those　who　feel　deeply　in　their　hearts；　and　I　knew　that　no　man　could　be　luckier　than　me。

And　after　our　son　died；　the　one　who　resembled　his　mother　。　。　。　It　was　the　hardest　time　we　ever　went　through；　and　the　words　still　ring　true　today：

In　times　of　grief　and　sorrow　I　will　hold　you　and　rock　you；　and　take　your　grief　and　make　it　my　own。　When　you　cry；　I　cry；　and　when　you　hurt；　I　hurt。　And　together　we　will　try　to　hold　back　the　floods　of　tears　and　despair　and　make　it　through。

I　pause　for　just　a　moment；　remembering　him。　He　was　four　years　old　at　the　time；　just　a　baby。　I　have　lived　twenty　times　as　long　as　he；　but　if　asked；　I　would　have　traded　my　life　for　his。　It　is　a　terrible　thing　to　outlive　your　child；　a　tragedy　I　wish　upon　no　one。

They　went　on；　this　correspondence　of　life　and　love；　and　I　read　dozens　more；　some　painful；　most　heart…warming。　By　three　o'clock　I　was　tired；　but　I　had　reached　the　bottom　of　the　stack。　There　was　one　letter　remaining；　the　last　one　I　wrote　to　her；　and　by　then　I　knew　I　had　to　keep　going。　I　lifted　the　seal　and　removed　both　pages。　I　put　the　second　page　aside　and　moved　the　first　page　into　better　light　and　began　to　read：

My　dearest　Allie；

The　porch　is　silent　except　for　the　sounds　that　float　from　the　shadows；　and　for　once　I　am　at　a　loss　for　words。　It　is　a　strange　experience　for　me；　for　when　I　think　of　you　and　the　life　we　have　shared；　there　is　much　to　remember。　A　lifetime　of　memories。　But　to　put　it　into　words？　I　am　not　a　poet；　and　yet　a　poem　is　needed　to　fully　express　the　way　I　feel　about　you。

So　my　mind　drifts　and　I　remember　thinking　about　our　life　together　as　I　made　Coffee　this　morning。　Kate　was　there；　and　so　was　Jane；　and　they　both　became　quiet　when　I　walked　into　the　kitchen。　I　saw　they'd　been　crying；　and　without　a　word　I　sat　myself　beside　them　at　the　table　and　held；　their　hands。　And　when　I　looked　at　them；　I　saw　you　from　so　long…ago；　the　day　we　said　goodbye。　They　resemble　you　and　how　you　were　then；　beautiful　and　sensitive　and　wounded　with　the　hurt　that　es　when　something　special　is　taken　away。　And　for　a　reason　I'm　not　sure　I　understand；　I　was　inspired　to　tell　them　a　story。

I　called　Jeff　and　David　into　the　kitchen；　for　they　were　here　as　well；　and　when　the　children　were　ready　I　told　them　about　us　and　how　you　came　back　to　me　so　long　ago。　I　told　them　about　our　walk；　and　the　crab　dinner　in　the　kitchen；　and　they　listened　with　smiles　when　they　heard　about　the　canoe　ride；　and　sitting　in　front　of　the　fire　with　the　storm　raging　outside。　I　told　them　about　your　mother　warning　us　about　Lon　the　next　day—they　seemed　as　surprised　as　we　were—and　yes；　I　even　told　them　what　happened　later　that　day；　after　you　went　back　to　town。

That　part　of　the　story　has　never　left　me；　even　after　all　this　time。　Even　though　you　described　it　to　me　only　once；　I　remember　marvelling　at　the　strength　you　showed　that　day。　I　still　cannot　imagine　what　was　going　through　your　mind　when　you　walked　into　the　lobby　and　saw　Lon；　or　how　it　must　have　felt　to　talk　to　him。　You　told　me　that　the　two　of　you　left　the　inn　and　sat　on　a　bench　by　the　old　Methodist　church；　and　that　he　held　your　hand；　even　as　you　explained　that　you　must　stay。

I　know　you　cared　for　him。　And　his　reaction　proves　to　me　he　cared　for　you　as　well。　Even　as　you　explained　that　you　had　always　loved　me；　and　that　it　wouldn't　be　fair　to　him；　he　did　not　release　your　hand。　I　know　he　was　hurt　and　angry；　and　tried　for　almost　an　hour　to　change　your　mind；　but　when　you　stood　firm　and　said；　〃I　can't　go　back　with　you；　I'm　so　sorry；〃　he　knew　that　your　decision　had　been　made。　You　said　he　simply　nodded　and　the　two　of　you　sat　together　for　a　long　time　without　speaking。　I　have　always　wondered　what　he　was　thinking　as　he　sat　with　you；　but　I'm　sure　it　was　the　same　way　I　felt　only　a　few　hours　before。　And　when　he　finally　walked　you　to　your　car；　you　said　he　told　you　that　I　was　a　lucky　man。　He　behaved　as　a　gentleman　would；　and　I　understood　then　why　your　choice　was　so　hard。

I　remember　that　when　I　finished　the　story；　the　room　was　quiet　until　Kate　finally　stood　to　embrace　me。　〃Oh；　Daddy；〃　she　said　with　tears　in　her　eyes；　and　though　I　expected　to　answer　their　questions；　they　did　not　ask　any。　Instead；　they　gave　me　something　much　more　special。　For　the　next　four　hours；　each　of　them　told　me　how　much　the　two　of　us　had　meant　to　them　growing　up。　One　by　one；　they　told　stories　about　things　I　had　long　since　forgotten。　And　by　the　end　I　was　crying；　because　I　realized　how　well　we　had　done　with　raising　them。　I　was　so　proud　of　them；　and　proud　of　you；　and　happy　about　the　life　we　have　led。　And　nothing　will　ever　take　that　away。　Nothing。　I　only　wish　you　could　have　been　here　to　enjoy　it　with　me。

After　they　left；　I　rocked　in　silence；　thinking　back　on　our　life　together。　You　are　always　here　with　me　when　I　do　so；　at　least　in　my　heart；　and　it　is　impossible　for　me　to　remember　a　time　when　you　were　not　a　part　of　me。　I　do　not　know　who　I　would　have　bee　had　you　never　e　back　to　me　that　day。

I　love　you；　Allie。　I　am　who　I　am　because　of　you。　You　are　every　reason；　every　hope　and　every　dream　I've　ever　had；　and　no　matter　what　happens　to　us　in　the　future；　every　day　we　are　together　is　the　greatest　day　of　my　life。　I　will　always　be　yours。

And；　my　darling；　you　will　always　be　mine。

Noah

I　put　the　pages　aside　and　remember　sitting　with　Allie　on　our　porch　when　she　read　this　letter　for　the　first　time。　It　was　late　afternoon　and　the　last　remnants　of　the　day　were　fading。　The　sky　was　slowly　changing　colour；　and　as　I　watched　the　sun　go　down　I　remember　thinking　about　that　brief；　flickering　moment　when　day　suddenly　turns　into　night。　Dusk；　I　realized；　is　just　an　illusion；　because　the　sun　is　either　above　the　horizon　or　below　it。　And　that　means　that　day　and　night　are　linked　in　a　way　that　few　things　are；　there　cannot　be　one　without　the　other；　yet　they　cannot　exist　at　the　same　time。　How　would　it　feel；　I　remember　wondering；　to　be　always　together；　yet　forever　apart？　I　know　the　answer　now。　I　know　what　it's　like　to　be　day　and　night　now；　always　together；　forever　apart。

THERE　IS　BEAUTY　where　we　sit　this　afternoon；　Allie　and　I。　This　is　the　pinnacle　of　my　life。　The　birds；　the　geese；　float　on　the　cool　water；　which　reflects　bits　and　pieces　of　their　colours　and　makes　them　seem　larger　than　they　really　are。　Allie　too　is　taken　in　by　their　wonder；　and　little　by　little　we　get　to　know　each　other　again。

〃It's　good　to　talk　to　you。　I　find　that　I　miss　it；　even　when　it　hasn't　been　that　long。〃　I　am　sincere　and　she　knows　this；　but　she　is　still　wary。　I　am　a　stranger。

〃Is　thi