罢了也好

世上万般,好便是了,了便是好。 若不了,便不好,若要好,须是了。所以,“罢了也好”。
正文

女儿的小小说《I'm your donor》

(2010-03-21 22:05:29) 下一个

If you're getting this letter, I'm already dead.  Either that, or that good for nothing.   Dr. Maynard just cheated me a bag of gummy worms to satisfy that sweet tooth of his.  But I'm getting away from the point.  So here it is:  you're the lucky bastard who's getting my heart.  Excuse the language, I'm not usually this rash, but hey, what's a dying girl to say?  Which brings me to my next question:  why do you need a new heart anyways?  Were you a murderer in your past life?  Do you have a bad soul or something that makes it so that your heart won't work properly?  I sure hope not, because if you are a bad person, and you end up getting my heart, I'll haunt you forever.  No joke.

But, from the looks of your photo, you don't seem evil.  They won't let me meet you because they think we'll get too attached.  "They" as in the doctors, which is ironic, because doctors are the last people to know what sympathy is--besides Dr. Maynard, of course.  Back to your photo.  You look cute.  You need a haircut, though--trust me, chicks dig pretty eyes way more than nice hair.  And you have a nice smile.  It's like a piece of origami.

I know, it's odd hearing that from a girl who's already dead, right?  I would know.  I've gotten my fair share of letters from dead people; I'm quite popular in the cancer ward, see.  Maybe it's because I had my hair for the longest time.  Not that my hair was anything amazing.  Just your everyday wavy blond-but-not-really locks that went to my shoulders--but never past, because I'd always chop it off in the summer when it got hot.  Oh, and if you're worrying right now, don't; the cancer hasn't touched my heart.  Again, you lucky bastard.

So about me.  Because it's only polite that you get to know me before receiving my most vital organ.  My name is Angela Aston--yes, AA--and I'm fifteen (going on sixteen, except not really) years old.  To put a cap on your fantasies, because, I'll admit, you getting my heart is a tiny bit romantic, I am not a size two, I don't have hips, double Ds or the type of blue eyes that you'd notice.  Instead, I'm broad-shouldered and a bit lanky--well, that was pre-cancer.  Now, I'm just anorexic.  I have dimples that don't complement my smile and white eyelashes that make me look like an alien.  I've got freckles and thin lips that aren't kissable at all--so don't go on thinking anything dirty.

My favorite color is blue.

My parents got divorced when I was four, but it wasn't anything nasty.  They still loved each other afterwards--just not the way married couples should.  When I got sick, they were both there for me, and for each other--"as friends", they said.  It's one of the best things I got out of having a terminal illness--I got to see my parents fall in love again.  

That was only a year ago.  Before I got sick, I was a normal girl.  I watched Dawson's Creek religiously; I drank Starbucks every morning and daydreamed in math.  I liked to paint--acrylic, because it made my mistakes harder to see.  I also thought the smell of it was intoxicating.  I miss it.  I miss a lot of smells, actually, having been stuck here for three weeks.  I miss the smell of grass--of fresh air, pizza, chlorine and cologne.  I miss the smell of my own shampoo in my hair.  From when I had hair.

I'm rambling.  I don't want you to feel sorry for me.  I had a nice life, aside from the cancer.  I got to do the backyard barbeques with the neighbors and the cute boy who lives down the street; I wore too-high heels to match a too-tall date to homecoming; I've played spin the bottle in upstairs attics, and gotten drunk--once, and only once--at a sixteenth birthday party.  I have way more make up than I need (especially now), too many apps on my cell phone, and too many people who love and care for me.  I'm not missing out on anything.  So don't feel bad, okay?  I know that writing this letter to you in the first place seems like a ploy to make you feel guilty, but, from the bottom of my heart (no pun intended), that's not what I'm trying to do.  I just want you to know who I am, that's all, because a part of me I hold very dear is soon going to be a part of you.

So take good care of it.  

- Angela




Author's Comments:

oh what is it with me.


[ 打印 ]
阅读 ()评论 (7)
评论
罢了 回复 悄悄话 谢谢小河的鼓励。因为自己从小不在父母身边长大,而且又经历了动荡的岁月,所以生活中有许多缺憾。有了孩子后,我心里最大的愿望就是不要让孩子经受我曾经受过的那些缺憾,尽量做一个好父亲。交流与鼓励是我与孩子们的纽带,这一条很重要。
青青小河 回复 悄悄话 罢了兄真是个好老爸! 我觉得, 子女和父母间的交流和沟通是至关重要的, 这也是我最想努力做到的。要好好向罢了兄学学! 先谢了!
青青小河 回复 悄悄话 噢, 忘了说, 喜欢贯穿整个故事的小小幽默, 让读者在心痛的同时有一点点轻松, 反之, 心在随着那些调皮的小幽默跳跃的同时, 感到一种钝钝的痛。尤其喜欢那嘎然而止, 干净利索的结尾。 好文笔!

罢了兄, 再多放上来一些, 与我们分享哈。 谢谢!
罢了 回复 悄悄话 谢谢小河的夸奖。上个周末除了例行,她又画了张画。我时常在想,不知道我女儿小脑袋里装得都是些什么,也在回忆我在她那个年龄的时候在想些什么。好在我们经常交流沟通,我随时都注意她的“阶级斗争新动向”。哈哈哈。。
青青小河 回复 悄悄话 看完的时候,我的眼泪再也按不住了, 结尾很有力度! 写得非常好! 非常感人!

罢了兄, 羡慕你有这么可爱的女儿!
登录后才可评论.