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A Letter To My Father
Dear Dad，
Today I was at the shopping mall and I spent a lot of time reading the Father’s Day cards. They all had a special message that in some way or another reflected how I feel about you. Yet as I selected and read, and selected and read again, it occurred to me that not a single card said what I really want to say to you.
You’ll soon be 84 years old, Dad, and you and I will have had 55 Father’s Days together. I haven’t always been with you on Father’s Day nor have I been with you for all of your birthdays. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. I’ve always been with you in my heart but sometimes life gets in the way.
You know, Dad, there was a time when we were not only separated by the generation gap but completely polarized by it. You stood on one side of the Great Divide and I on the other, father and daughter split apart by age and experience, opinions, hairstyles, cosmetics, clothing, curfews, music, and boys.
The Father-Daughter Duel of ’54 shifted into high gear when you taught me to drive the old Dodge and I decided I would drive the ‘54 Chevy whether you liked it or not. The police officer who escorted me home after you reported the Chevy stolen late one evening was too young to understand father-daughter politics and too old to have much tolerance for a snotty 16 year old. You were so decent about it, Dad, and I think that was probably what made it the worst night of my life.
Our relationship improved immensely when I married a man you liked, and things really turned around when we begin making babies right and left. We didn’t have a television set, you know, and we had to entertain ourselves somehow. I didn’t know what to expect of you and Mom as grandparents but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Those babies adored you then just as they adore you now. When I see you with all your grandchildren, I know you’ve given them the finest gift a grandparent can give. You’ve given them yourself.
Somewhere along the line, the generation gap evaporated. Age separates us now and little else. We agree on most everything, perhaps because we’ve learned there isn’t much worth disagreeing about. However, I would like to mention that fly fishing isn’t all you’ve cracked it up to be, Dad. You can say what you want about wrist action and stance and blah, blah, blah...
I’ve been happily drifting for a lot of years, Dad, and I didn’t see you getting older.
I suppose I saw us and our relationship as aging together, rather like a fine wine. Numbers never seemed important. But the oddest thing happened last week. I was at a stop sign and I watched as you turned the corner in your car. It didn’t immediately occur to me that it was you because the man driving looked so elderly and fragile behind the wheel of that huge car. It was rather like a slap in the face delivered from out of nowhere. Perhaps I saw your age for the first time that day. Or maybe I saw my own.
Fifty years ago this spring we planted kohlrabi together in a garden in Charles City, Iowa.
I didn’t know then that I would remember that day for the rest of my life. This week, we’ll plant kohlrabi together again, perhaps for the last time but I hope not. I don’t understand why planting kohlrabi with you is so important to me but it is. And the funny thing about it is, well, I don’t know quite how to tell you this, Dad...I don’t even like kohlrabi...but I like planting it with you.
I guess what I’m trying to say, Dad, is what every son and daughter wants to say to their Dad today. Honoring a Father on Father’s Day is about more than a Dad who brings home a paycheck, shares a dinner table, and attends school functions, graduations, and weddings. It isn’t even so much about kohlrabi, ’54 Chevrolets, and fly-fishing. It’s more about unconditionally loving children who are snotty and stubborn, who know everything and won’t listen to anyone. It’s about respect and sharing and acceptance and tolerance and giving and taking. It’s about loving someone more than words can say，and it’s wishing that it never had to end.
I love you, Dad.
亲爱的爸爸：
今天我在商场的时候, 我读了好长时间的有关“父亲节”的贺卡。那些卡片上面的文字很特别，也或多或少地表达出了我对您的感受。我挑选读过一次后，又挑选读了一遍，但那并不是一张贺卡所能表达出我想对您说的话的。
爸爸，很快您就要84岁了，您和我也将度过这第55个“父亲节”。“父亲节”的那天，我总是不能和您在一起，连您过生日的时候我也是这样，但这并不是因为我不想陪在您身边。其实，在我心里，我总是和您在一起。不过，有的时候，生活也会有差错。
爸爸，您也知道，我们父女俩曾有一段时间因为代沟不在一起过，比如年龄、个人阅历、观点、发型、化妆、服装、音乐、作息时间以及男朋友，因为这些，我们的观点也非常对立。您站在“大分离”的一端，我站在“大分离”的另一端。
那时，您教我学开那部道奇旧车，可我却不管您喜欢不喜欢执意要开雪拂兰’54那辆车。当时，我们父女俩关于雪拂兰汽车的争执也调到了最高挡。可那天晚上，您却报警说雪拂兰车被盗。之后，一个警官把我护送到家，可他太年轻了，根本不明白我们父女俩之间的政治斗争，可他也不小了，对一个16岁的流鼻涕的小孩却没有太多的耐心。爸爸，您倒对这件事处理得很体面，而我想那可能是我一生中最糟糕的一个夜晚吧。
在我嫁了一个您喜欢的女婿后，我们俩之间的关系才缓和了好多。后来，我们为了好好地生个孩子，就离开了，我们之间的那些事情也就结束了。这事您也知道，我们没有电视机看，我们就只好自娱自乐了。我不知道我还能对作为外公外婆的您和妈妈抱什么期望，但是，不要等到很久我就会找到答案。过去那些孩子热爱您，现在他们还像以前那样热爱您。当我看见您和您的外孙在一起的时候，我知道您都已经给了他们最好的礼物，您把心都掏给他们了。
就是这样，您我之间的代沟慢慢消失了。现在年龄和其它一些问题的差异把您和我分开，可我们在很多事情的上的看法都是一样的，这可能是因为我们明白了没有那么多的事情值得我们争辩吧。然而，我想提示一下的是，爸爸，飞蝇钓鱼是您最喜欢的一种钓法，您可以说些您想做的手腕动作，站姿和一些没有用的话什么的。
爸爸，虽然我已经漂泊很多年了，但是我很快乐。然而，我却发现您没有变老，还是那么年轻。
随着年龄的增长，我认和我之间的关系慢慢地融洽了好多，就像是一瓶好酒，越陈越香。家人看起来好像没有一点意义似的，但是，上周发生了一件最奇怪的事情，我站在停车标志旁，看见您开着车要拐弯。可是我并没有立刻反映到那是爸爸您。因为那个人开着车，又在那部大车的车轮后面，就显得他岁数很大，身体也很虚弱的样子。可我却感到不知道从哪里飞来的一记耳光似的重重地打在我的脸上，也许，那是我第一次“看见”您的年龄，也许，只有我自己看见罢了。
五十年前的一个春天，我们在依阿华州查理斯市的一个花园一起栽下苤蓝菜。
当时我也不知道我以后会怀念那一天。这一周，我们还要在一起栽苤蓝菜，这是第二次。也许，这是最后一次，可我并不希望那样。我不明白为什么我和您一起栽苤蓝菜我会感到很有意义，可事实上就有意义。而且，关于这个，有个有意思的事情，可我不知道该怎么和您说这事，爸爸…… 我不喜欢苤蓝菜……但是，我却喜欢和您一起栽苤蓝菜。
爸爸，我想我想要说的话是每个作儿女的今天想和他们爸爸要说的话。过“父亲节”，给父亲这么一个大的荣誉，决不是因为爸爸给家里挣多少钱，和家人一起共进晚餐，参加学校活动，参加毕业典礼和婚礼的原因，也不止是一起栽苤蓝菜，开雪拂兰’54车和飞蝇钓鱼的事，也不止是您毫无理由地爱那些流鼻涕又很淘气，而且什么都懂，就是不听话的小孩。这就是尊重对方，分享快乐，认同和忍受他人，给予和接受吧，您对别人的爱也是不能用言语来表达的，希望这些永不终止。
爸爸，我爱您……
