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1、2.1我哥哥吉米出生时遇上难产，因为缺氧导致大脑受损。两年后，我出生了。从此以后，我的生活便围绕我哥哥转。伴随我成长的，是“到外面去玩，把你哥哥也带上。 ”不带上他，我是哪里也去不了的。因此，我怂恿邻居的孩子到我家来，尽情地玩孩子们玩的游戏。我母亲教吉米学习日常自理，比如刷牙或系皮带什么的。我父亲宅心仁厚，他的耐心和理解使一家人心贴着心。我则负责外面的事，找到那些欺负我哥哥的孩子们的父母，告他们的状，为我哥哥讨回公道。父亲和吉米形影不离。他们一道吃早饭，平时每天早上一道开车去海军航运中心，他们都在那里工作，吉米在那搬卸标有彩色代号的箱子。晚饭后，他们一道交谈，玩游戏，直到深夜。他们甚至用口哨吹
2、相同的曲调。所以，父亲 1991 年因心脏病去世时，吉米几乎崩溃了，尽管他尽量不表现出来。他就是不能相信父亲去世这一事实。通常，他是一个令人愉快的人，现在却一言不发，无论说多少话都不能透过他木然的脸部表情了解他的心事。我雇了一个人和他住在一起，开车送他去上班。然而，不管我怎么努力地维持原状，吉米还是认为他熟悉的世界已经消失了。有一天，我问他：“你是不是想念爸爸？”他的嘴唇颤抖了几下，然后问我：“你怎么看，玛格丽特？他是我最好的朋友。 ”接着，我俩都流下了眼泪。六个月后，母亲因肺癌去世，剩下我一人来照顾吉米。吉米不能马上适应去上班时没有父亲陪着，因此搬来纽约和我一起住了一段时间我走到哪里他就跟到
3、哪里，他好像适应得很好。但吉米依然想住在我父母的房子里，继续干他原来的工作。我答应把他送回去。此事最后做成了。如今，他在那里生活了 11 年，在许多人的照料下，同时依靠自己生活得有声有色。他已成了邻里间不可或缺的人物。如果你有邮件要收，或有狗要遛，他就是你所要的人。当然，母亲的话没错：可以有一个家，既能容纳他的缺陷又能装下我的雄心。事实上，关照像吉米这样一个深爱又感激我的人，更加丰富了我的生活，其他任何东西都不能与之相比。这一点，在 911 灾难后几天更显真切。那天是吉米 57 岁生日。我在纽约自己的家里为他举办生日宴会，但是我们家的人都没能来参加，因为交通困难，而且灾难带来的恐惧使他们依然心
4、有余悸。我邀请了我的好友，请他们来帮忙把宴会弄得热闹些，增加点欢快气氛，没去理会他们多数人在情感上都有些疲惫这一事实。于是我一反常态，没说“请不要带礼物”，而是向他们喊“请带礼物来”。我的朋友吉米认识他们多年了带来了中意的礼物：乡村音乐 CD、一件长袖运动衫、一条有“吉米”字样的皮带、一顶编织的羊毛帽，还有一套牛仔服。那天晚上，我们先是送礼物，然后是切从他喜欢的面包店里买来的巧克力蛋糕，当然还唱了“生日歌”，否则宴会就不算完整了。吉米一次次地问：“该切蛋糕了吧？”等用完餐和送完礼物后，吉米再也控制不住了。他焦急地等着点上蜡烛，然后在我们“生日快乐”的歌声中，一口长气吹灭了蜡烛。户然而吉米对我们
5、的努力还是感到不满足。他纵身跳到椅子上，直挺着身子，双手食指朝天，一边喊一边指挥我们唱歌：“再来次！”我们全力以赴地唱。待我们唱完时，他翘起两个拇指喊道：“好极了！”本来我们想让他知道，无论世上有多难的事情，总是有人来关心他。现在反倒是提醒了我们自己。对于吉米来说，我们唱歌时的爱心，是他心中额外的礼物，但是他原先更想看到的，是别人再次感到快乐。有如父亲的去世一夜之间改变了吉米的世界，9?11 也改变了我们的生活；我们熟悉的世界不复存在了。但是，当我们为吉米唱歌，相互紧拥，祈祷全球和平时，我们也意识到，朋友、家人间永恒的爱和支持可以让我们克服生活中的任何困难。吉米以朴素的方式为我们协调了眼前的一
6、切，他做到这一点并不令人吃惊。吉米的爱可以征服一切，这是任何东西都限制不了的。My brother, Jimmy, did not get enough oxygen during a difficult delivery, leaving him with brain damage, and two years later I was born. Since then, my life revolved around my brothers. Accompanying my growing up was always “go out and play and take your brothe
7、r with you“. I couldnt go anywhere without him, so I urged the neighborhood kids to come to my house for some out-of-control kid-centered fun. My mother taught Jimmy practical things like how to brush his teeth or put on a belt. My father, a saint, simply held the house together with his patience an
8、d understanding. I was in charge outside where I administered justice by tracking down the parents of the kids who picked on my brother, and telling on them. My father and Jimmy were inseparable. They ate breakfast together and on weekdays drove off to the navy shipping center every morning where th
9、ey both workedJimmy unloaded color-coded boxes. At night after dinner, they would talk and play games late into the evening. They even whistled the same tunes. So when my father died of a heart attack in 1991, Jimmy was a wreck, beneath his careful disguise He was simply in disbelief. Usually very a
10、greeable, he now quit speaking altogether and no amount of words could penetrate the vacant expression he wore on his face. I hired someone to live with him and drive him to work, but no matter how much I tried to make things stay the same, even Jimmy grasped that the world hed known was gone. One d
11、ay I asked, “You miss Dad, dont you?“ His lips quivered and then he asked, “What do you think, Margaret? He was my best friend.“ Our tears began to flow. My mother died of lung cancer six months later and I alone was left to look after Jimmy. He didnt adjust to going to work without my father right
12、away, so he came and lived with me in New York City for a while. He went wherever I went and seemed to adjust pretty well. Still, Jimmy longed to live in my parents house and work at his old job and I pledged to help him return. Eventually, I was able to work it out. He has lived there for 11 years
13、now with many different caretakers and blossomed on his own. He has become essential to the neighborhood. When you have any mail to be picked up or your dog needs walking, he is your man.My mother was right, of course: It was possible to have a home with room for both his limitations and my ambition
14、s. In fact, caring for someone who loves as deeply and appreciates my efforts as much as Jimmy does has enriched my life more than anything else ever could have. This hit home a few days after the September 11th disaster on Jimmys 57th birthday. I had a party for him in my home in New York, but none
15、 of our family could join us because travel was difficult and they were still reckoning with the sheer terror the disaster had brought. I called on my faithful friends to help make it a merry and festive occasion, ignoring the fact that most of them were emotionally drained and exhausted. Instead of
16、 the customary “No gifts, please“, I shouted, “Gifts! Please!“ My friendspeople Jimmy had come to know over the yearsbrought the ideal presents: country music CDs, a sweatshirt one leather belt with “J-I-M-M-Y“ on it, a knitted wool hat and a cowboy costume. The evening led up to the gifts and then the chocolate cake from his favorite bakery, and of course the ceremony wasnt complete without the singing. A thousand times Jimmy asked, “Is it time for the cake yet?“ After di
