不仅仅是风景　It’s More Than Just a View

If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.

～Flavia Weedn

As the years have come and gone, like most of us, I've gone head-to-head with a couple of my own personal demons, and in waging those particular wars, I've been known to have made a few resolutions. If the truth be told, I've won some and lost some.Such is life.However, for almost three decades now I've carried with me a bottomless pit of determination to get something back which I truly felt belonged to me.

It all began when I was expecting my first child twenty-seven years ago. My father, deep in the throes of a raging midlife crisis and empty nest syndrome, threw a hissy fit over what were actually a couple of minor annoyances up at the lake, and sold our family cottage.The decision immediately became his greatest regret, and, I believe was one of the only things he died still kicking himself over；besides the fact that my mother didn't speak to him for weeks over it.

My parents had signed for the cottage on a damp and dreary spring morning for not much more than a song. The place was a dilapidated mouse-infested money pit, but it did have a view to die for.I was about to turn sixteen, and in my narrow-minded youth, their decision to buy it was total vindication, as I considered them crazy based on some of the outrageous rules they had devised for me.However, my opinion didn't seem to faze them, and alongside my mom, dad and sister, I toiled away all summer.

By the time my late August birthday arrived, the place was pretty much unrecognizable inside and out, and swallowing my adolescent pride, I asked, much to my parents' delight, if I could hold my birthday bash up there. It was the first of many, as the cottage quickly became the preferred venue for just about every summer family celebration imaginable.Over the years, Mom and Dad bought all the requisite toys, which included a brand new six-seater bow rider and a trail bike.The cottage was the place I first fell in love, and where I learned to drive a boat, a car and a motorcycle, cast my own line, water ski, and play a mean game of croquet and badminton.

Since all of this occurred before global warming or the melanoma epidemic, we also did a fair amount of sunbathing and were all as“brown as berries，”as my mom used to say, by the end of summer. Sometimes, craving a little rural excitement, everyone would pile into Dad's station wagon and head to the Country Cafe in town for lunch.Wandering to our heart's content amongst the little shops along the main street, we'd never fail to make a stop at the bakery.I'm glad no one was testing our blood sugar.By today's standards we should have all been dead long ago！

Evenings were spent toasting marshmallows around the camp-fire, playing Scrabble, acting out charades or playing family-friendly games of crazy eights, blackjack and every kind of poker imaginable. And during the warmest of evenings, when the moon didn't cast too bright a beam across the cool, dark water, you could almost count on catching the muffed giggles from those who'd ditched their clothes to take a midnight plunge.

We woke early in the morning to Dad popping his head in our bedroom doors advising us to rise and shine if we wanted to eat. Since we hadn't heard of cholesterol counts, we'd show up to the breakfast table and plan the days'activities over platters of bacon and eggs, and toast that was slathered with butter.

Those wonderfully happy times, which I now understand were the epitome of life flying by, were quite simply the best days I have ever known. The second we walked away from that place I truly understood what it meant to have my heart broken.

Unfortunately, I've since learned the hard way it wasn't the only time that would happen, and that at the end of the day there's no prescription for feeling better quick. However, I did make a vow that one way or another；I was going to get it back.I would right my father's wrong and reclaim what was rightfully ours.And so began the grieving process, which, I've decided, is something akin to having the world watch from the sidelines as you take a huge slap in the face, just when you least expect it.

More than a quarter of a century has passed, and my grieving has been somewhat diluted by life's stark realities. However, I kept my promise by diligently monitoring the real estate listings and making a yearly trek up there“just to see”，warning my husband that if I ever saw a sign on the property, I'd be willing to post one of the kids on eBay in order to get my hands on it.He responded by giving me the same nervous little smile every time, but to his great relief, it has never once come on the market.

And now, to be honest, I'm tired of waiting. The baby I was carrying all those years ago is about to become a father, which, if you trace the family tree, makes me a grandmother.And yet it's taken all this time for me to grasp the fact that it wasn't about the cottage at all.Or at least not that particular one.What I yearned so badly to recapture and pass on to my own family, was really just a place.A little piece of heaven where the good times we shared, the relationships we strengthened, the lessons we learned and the memories we created would live forever.I hit the Internet a couple of months ago but didn't find what I was looking for until my son sent me the link to a listing.The place, which had a view to die for, was nothing but a dilapidated mouse-infested money pit.We signed the papers within an hour.

Even though it's less than a half-hour drive, I have no plans to travel down the long, dusty road to sneak a peek at the old digs this year. It's been gone almost thirty years now anyway.And I've noticed that with the purchase of our new place, that endless longing and gnawing resolve, which has tugged at my heart all these years, is finally gone.Replaced by an understanding that taking it away from someone else would never have been the answer, I finally learned that it was only in recognizing the cottage's true gifts：the legacy of love it inspired, and the willpower it instilled in me in wanting so desperately to get it all back, could I pay tribute to it.And as I look out at that view and await the birth my first grandchild, I'm almost certain I can see the reflection of Dad’s proud smile and the ghost of love’s first kiss, in the glistening waters……

～Debbie Gill

如果梦想破灭，摔成碎片，一定要勇敢地捡起一块碎片重新开始。

——弗拉维亚·威登

寒暑易节，冬去春来。和大多数人一样，我也面对着许多个人方面的挑战，在应对挑战的过程中，我学会了下一些决心。不过说句实话，这些决心有的实现了，有的落空了。生活就是如此。然而，近30年来，我一直有这样一个坚定的决心，那就是找回我认为真正属于自己的东西。

说起这件事，还得从27年前开始，那时候我刚刚怀上第一个孩子，父亲正饱受中年危机和“空巢综合征”的打击。有一天，他因为一点鸡毛小事而大发雷霆，一怒之下就把家里的避暑小别墅给卖掉了。这个决定马上成了父亲最大的遗憾，让他抱憾终生，临终时都耿耿于怀。就因为这件事，母亲有好几个星期都没有搭理他。

有一年春天，在潮湿凄凉的早晨，爸妈以超低的价格签约买下了这块地方。那时候，那个地方老鼠成灾，满目疮痍，但风景确实不错。我当时马上16岁了，家教很严，父母给我立下各式各样的规矩，少不更事的我甚至觉得他们有点疯狂。看见爸妈竟然发疯般地买下这样一块破地方，正好印证了我的观点。但是，爸妈可不这么想，他们并不在乎我怎么看他们。我和爸妈还有姐姐在那块破地方忙了一个夏天。

到了八月底我过生日的时候，那个地方里里外外都发生了翻天覆地的变化。这下可刺激了我年少的虚荣心。于是，我向爸妈请求在小屋那儿举行生日聚会。这着实让爸妈吃了一惊。从那以后，每年夏天只要家里有什么聚会的话，都会首先考虑去那个小屋。年复一年，爸妈在小屋里置办了各种各样的玩意儿，包括一只六个座位的小快艇和一辆山地自行车。我的第一场恋爱也开始于这间小屋。我也是在这里学会了划船、开车和骑摩托车。也是在这里，我学会了抛网打鱼、滑水、打槌球和羽毛球。

那时候还没有全球变暖问题和大规模的皮肤癌，所以我们经常晒日光浴。每年夏末，妈妈常说我们“肤色晒得跟浆果一样”。我们有时想体验乡村风味，那就直接挤上爸爸的旅行汽车，一起去镇上的乡村餐馆吃顿午饭。为了获得内心的满足，我们就在主干道大街上的小店来回转悠。每次，我们都不会忘了在街上的面包房逗留一会儿。幸好那时候没有人测量我们的血糖。要是按现在的血糖标准来看的话，我们早就见上帝去了！

到了夜晚，我们就围着篝火烤软糖，玩拼字游戏，玩手势猜词游戏。我们还玩扑克牌，什么“跑得快”、“21点”之类的，什么扑克游戏都玩。等到夏天最热的时候，月光要是不能透过湖水，就会听到湖里有人暗笑，肯定是大半夜有人脱光了衣服跳进湖里冲凉了。

如果我们前一天晚上说要吃早点的话，那第二天就会早起。一大清早，爸爸把脑袋探进我们的房间，让我们早点起来抖擞一下精神。我们那时候还没有听说过什么胆固醇问题，所以会起来吃早点。在餐桌上，我们一边计划当天的活动，一边吃着熏肉、鸡蛋和涂着黄油的吐司面包。

我现在觉得，这些一去不回的欢快岁月是我一生中最快乐的时光。从那个地方离开的那一刻，我才知道什么是心碎。

不幸的是，并不只是在离别之时才会心碎，别后忧思亦难忘，剪不断，理还乱。每当夜幕降临，淡淡的忧伤总是向我袭来——无处可逃，无法排遣。事已至此，我一次又一次地暗下决心：我要把小屋重新买回来。我要弥补父亲犯下的错误，重新夺回属于我们的小屋。我的痛苦也由此而来。在我眼里，这就好像一个人在万众瞩目之下给自己一个大耳光，谁都不愿意这么难堪。

一晃25年过去了，残酷的现实冲淡了我的忧伤。但是，我依旧密切关注着那块地方的房产交易信息。每年，我都长途跋涉去往那儿一趟，“只为看上一看”。我跟丈夫说，一旦看到那个度假小屋上挂出待售标牌的话，我宁愿在易趣网上卖儿卖女也要重新买回那块地方。我每次这么说，丈夫总是不自然地笑笑。但是，这么多年来小屋一直没有出售，丈夫肯定觉得谢天谢地。

说句真心话，我现在再也等不下去了。当年我生下的那个小家伙现在马上就要当爸爸了。算起来，自己都快当奶奶了。花了这么长时间，我终于明白，原来自己苦苦追寻的并不是一座度假小屋，起码不是我们以前那座小屋。我一直渴望得到并传给自己家庭的只是一块地方而已。这块地方将成为我们的家庭乐园，我们可以共享欢乐、增进感情、共同学习，度过永生难忘的岁月，以供日后回忆。几个月前，我上网搜了一下，但是没有找到理想的地方。直到有一天，儿子给我发来一个网络链接。我打开链接一看，那个地方破败不堪，老鼠成群出没，满目疮痍。不到一小时，我们就签约买下了那块地方。

虽然开车到那个地方不到半小时，但是我也没心思在年内一路风尘地去那看看。都过去快30年了。几十年来苦苦纠缠的一块心病，就这样随着我们买下新地一扫而光。我渐渐明白，把那块地方从别人手里夺回来并不是好的解决方法，那块地方的真正意义在于它激发的真爱以及灌输给我的强烈意愿，誓死夺回这块地方的意愿——我要向它致敬。我向着小屋的方向望去，等待着第一个孙子的诞生。就在这时，我在闪耀的湖面上看见爸爸自得的笑容和当年初吻的痕迹……

——黛比·吉尔