The Little Girl in the Radiator 暖气片里的小女孩.docVIP

The Little Girl in the Radiator 暖气片里的小女孩 　　她是你生命里最亲近的人，教你吃饭、穿衣、说话，陪你一路长大，曾是这个风雨世界里让你感觉最安全和温暖的港湾。然而，忽然有一天，她不记得你了，不记得家了，不记得自己是谁，不记得回家的路……她在失去记忆的海洋里孤独地沉沉浮浮，成了你整天牵挂、放心不下的“负担”。人们说她“痴呆”，医生说她“失智”，但只有儿子知道，她只是迷路了，被禁锢在幻觉丛生的模糊世界里，成了一个回不了家的小女孩。 　　the consultant asked， “Tell me， what year is it now， Rose？” My mother frowned. “Let me think，” she said. “Is the war still on？” “Do you mean the Second World War？” he asked. Mum nodded. “No， that ended in 1945，” said the consultant. “What year is it now？” “Then it must be after that，” she replied. “It’s 2002，” he said. “Yes， that’s right，” said mum， who would have agreed if he’d told her it was 1812. I squeezed her hand gently. 　　Looking back on it now， I am convinced that my mother’s dementia2） began the day my father died. Mum had nursed my dad devotedly through his final illness and when death eventually came， she had gone into a deep shock. It had been a difficult period for me too， with my own marriage coming to an end at the same time. 　　Which was why I found myself， a year after Dad had gone， sitting in Mum’s kitchen and asking whether I could move back in with her. “Oh， that would be lovely！” she cried. 　　I hadn’t realised quite how much the dementia was starting to ebb and flow3） in her mind―already much worse than when we’d seen the consultant just a few months before. But once I’d moved back in， her decline became all too apparent. 　　I stepped out of the shower one morning to find my bath towel cut into a series of neat strips， about 12 in all. “What’s happened here， Mum？” I’d called. 　　“Ask Aunt Peggy，” she said. “That’s just the kind of thing she’d do.” “Aunt Peggy’s been dead for years.” I replied. Mum looked at me as if I’d hit her. “How could you say such a thing？” she said， tears springing to her eyes. “I spoke to her only yesterday.” 　　That was the brutality of ignorance on my part. Later， when I understood a bit better how Alzheimer’s worked， I’d be much more tactful. 　　It took me a long time to understand w