南巴萬的阿公 - 天涯比鄰

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南巴萬的阿公

2013/09/15 07:24:29瀏覽3038｜回應37｜推薦216

親愛的阿公，

姊姊，弟弟，和我都很想念您！

我們希望能夠很快就回台灣 看您

最近，姊姊和我還在說，

我們還記得您以前那麼喜歡講英文，

現在每次看到您，您還在對我們說南巴萬 (Number One！)。

對我們來講，您是永遠「第一名」的阿公！

Love，

姊姊，弟弟，和我 (SF)

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父親一向身體硬朗，精神昂揚，生命意志旺盛。近兩年，因為上了年紀，開始出現局部生理機能衰退，曾經三度被送入加護病房，但也都能化險為夷，平安回家。

這兩週他的健康情況突然急轉直下，數度進入昏迷。偶而兩眼張開，望著圍繞他週遭的親人，雖然已無力言語，但可以從他慈祥關愛的眼神裡，看到泛著出奇和非比尋常的淡定和從容，讓三代子孫在萬般不捨的淚光中，打從心中興起了一股無比的敬意。

他一生獻身台灣農業，從一而終，未曾須臾背離。水果王國台灣今日的香蕉、芒果、木瓜、鳳梨、酪梨、蛋黃果、和波羅蜜，都不難看到他當年進行研發時，雙手愛撫過的痕跡。

對家庭更是忠心耿耿，竭盡畢生心力來經營。在他有生之年，不酗酒、不抽煙、不賭博、不嫖妓、不搞婚外情。經營家庭是他除了農業研發之外的最大志業。記憶中，他從未給我們言教，他身教的威力，卻穿透子孫三代。他熾烈而充滿愛的的靈魂，直探曾孫的小小心田。他喜歡與晚輩互動，在與孫輩們的嘻笑戲耍中，他經常忘記了自己的年齡和輩分，晚輩也常把他當同年玩伴，跟他打情罵俏，甚至沒大沒小。

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以下是女兒SR對阿公的懷念:

阿公 is a grower of things. Life springs from his hands wherever he touches. From the hard soil of our suburban backyard, he and 阿嬤 coaxed a lush field of plenty overflowing with tomatoes, pears, asparagus, peppers, eggplant, cabbage, and chives. It seemed whenever I would look out the window, he would be walking with his rocking, bow-legged steps towards the garden that fringed the borders of the yard. He walked with such confidence, with the cowboy hat that we had gotten from some company picnic proudly on top of his head. As a kid, I imagined 阿公 was some type of magician. He was always doing some sort of strange thing, tying plastic bags to the branches of trees and grafting this to that, trimming away leaves in just such a way.

Sometimes, we would be recruited into accompanying him into the dense jungle of greenery, armed with big silver bowls and swatting away the mosquitoes that 阿公 seemed impervious to. He lifted each leaf gently, inspecting what was underneath, until with a deft movement, he would say our names in his hoarse voice, stand up, and show us the most perfect specimen. Ruby red, smooth luminescent skin, large as a stone, he held it up like a beautiful jewel in his knobby, gnarled fingers for us to see. We could never find ones that were quite equivalent to what he found, though we would try. “阿公，阿公！看看！“ We would squeal, holding our broken and warped little tomatoes. He would give us a thumbs up and say “Ok! Numba one!” and we would feel the satisfaction of placing each tomato into the bowl, hearing the metallic “tonk” as they slid down the side.

Despite being an expert in his field in agriculture, 阿公never ceased his pursuit of knowledge. I remember thinking when we were in elementary school doing our homework, that it was strange for someone so old to still be studying the same as we were. But there he was, right beside us, his English book in his lap and interrupting our studies all the time to say “Dees…ees…apple!” and pointing with a gnarled finger at the fruit on the table. He would look at us eagerly, and then happily repeat it five, maybe ten times. He had the inquisitive nature of a young student still learning things about the world, which made the world a rich and joyous place.

Perhaps one of my most poignant memories of him was sitting next to him on the car, on our way to a restaurant for dinner. It was the end of autumn, and the trees were bare silhouettes. The leaves had all fallen so you could see clearly the remainders of large birds’ nests from the summer. 阿公had just learned the word for nest, which he pronounced “nestoo”. And as we drove, he pointed at the window at the tops of the trees, and every time he would see a nest, he whispered quietly to himself, “nestoo. Nestoo”. This memory stays with me to this day. There was something about the genuine childlike wonder with which he explored the world, despite being a man of his stature and his experience, that was so wonderfully touching.

阿公had such a silly side to him. To this day, our family still talks of when, as part of our family “variety” show, 阿公took a marker and stole into the bathroom. After some time had passed, we became concerned that perhaps something had happened to him while in the bathroom, so one of us went to knock on the door. Just as we did, the door swung open and 阿公marched out triumphantly, with his shirt rolled up to his neck and a giant face painted on his torso. He proceeded to march around the room, making the face on his stomach wiggle, talk, and blink. At one point, he put a marble into his bellybutton “mouth” and had the giant face do a little dance. All of us fell to the floor laughing.

Perhaps 阿公could give life to everything he touched because he had so much to spare. He was like a combination of 孫悟空and the old medicine man he used to watch on Chinese TV: a bundle of endless energy, contained in a small man’s body. When I think back to memories of him, I imagine his walk. I’ve never seen anyone walk like him. Half soldier, half acrobat, he was always pushing beyond the limitations of his body, with energetic, quick movements that were too powerful to be human. He walked everywhere, even when most other people his age would have settled into the comfortable laziness of being wheeled around; he refused (unless we needed to cut in line at Disneyland). He never wanted to be contained, or kept in one place. He was the sole actor in his life, and wanted each movement, each action to be his own. His chest thrust out proudly, his arms pumping back and forth and his legs moving like a soldier’s, with the biggest smile on his face. That was my 阿公.

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以下是么兒SY給阿公的信：

Dear 阿公,

I will always remember your earnest, wrinkled smile. You could be showing everyone the eggplant that you picked or watching your grandchildren play and grow up, but your smile was the same. It was proud, full of life and passion.

I remember coming home from elementary school every day, and you and 阿嬷would be squatting down in the dirt. Sometimes I would watch you two from the window, wondering how you could stand to be so hot and uncomfortable just to work on your garden. But you would spend hours out here, making sure that every flower and every bush was tended to before coming inside at sunset. You cared so much for your garden that I feel like it was almost a part of you, and your love for your work inspired me even as a child.

When you were in America, we would go together as a family to museums or parks. I remember watching you walk, with your hands clasped behind your back and your slow, steady steps. You never took the world around you for granted, always smiling and enjoying new things, and you never forgot to share your wonderment with us too. Many of those same characteristics I see in your oldest son, and I also see them in me as well.

Dear 阿公, your family may now be spread all over the world, but we love you very much and your life has affected us in more ways than we even know.

Love,