By Liu Yong
Following her will,Jacqueline Kennedy was buried beside her first husband,John Kennedy. When it came out, gossip about her will spread around the world:
“Jacqueline was such a snobbish woman that she chose to be buried by the side of a husband who was famous and powerful.”
“In western countries, you know, a woman that marries several husbands should have the surnames of each of her husband's in her name. I wonder if it was possible to engrave ‘Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis' on her tombstone? Or was her second husband's name removed from her name?”
“If so, Onassis was really a poor fish to end up alone.”
“Did they say Onassis was buried next to his former wife?”
The gossip reminds me of a story about a female colleague of mine.
When her husband was dying,he called her to his bedside and told her, “You like to have your hair and fingernails done every week. Don't stop dressing up after my death. No man loves a slovenly and untidy woman.”
The husband then summoned his sons. “After my death, if your mother finds a man who loves her,you shall support it.”
With those words, he breathed his last breath.
Two or three years later, she had met a man who was also widowed. Before marriage, she said to me, “I told him I'd marry him on the condition that I should be buried next to my former husband when I die.”
“Did he agree?”
“Of course,” she laughed.“He was in high spirits, too. He would have said it, but hesitated to broach the subject. He also expects to be buried next to his former wife when he dies.”
In marriage, being a partner is more than just being a “l(fā)oved”one. Especially for the remarried couples, no one knows whether there is a past love buried in his or her heart.
I encountered an old professor who had been in a long and loving marriage. However he remarried shortly after his wife passed away.Many people blamed him for“moving on” so fast. It seemed his past true love had suddenly evaporated into a “false feeling.”
Finally, a student asked,“Professor, which one do you love more, your new wife or the former one?
The professor just answered with a smile: “Since her death, my love has followed her.”
What a feeling in such a short answer! There are many people in the world who probably bury their love for the rest of their lives at the moment when their first love fails or when they are young and widowed. Even though they are still living, they are just living a routine and boring life.What is left in their heart is only reminiscence—no love anymore.Their love may be calm and sustaining, but will never blaze and burn again.
When I finished my essay entitled “My Beloved Forgotten for Years,” I showed it to my wife.She said, “How can you lie in the same bed with someone every day,but the one you love most in your heart is another person?”
She was probably suspicious of my intention. Just then I said,“Think about it, if I suddenly die some day, and after a while you find a man and you two are married, who is the most beloved one in your heart—that man or me?”
She kept silent for a while and seemed to agree with me in her eyes.
A few minutes later, she said,“Isn't that so? But it would be unfair to that man who got married for the first time. The love in his heart may be me, but my most beloved one is not him.”
Here is another wonderful story:
One man's wife died, and he married again shortly after. They had many children and a pleasant life. Unexpectedly, after decades,before his death, he still insisted on being buried next to his former wife.
The family followed his will,but a few years later, his second wife died, and she insisted on being buried next to her husband.
On the day of the burial, the cemetery workers were asked to open the grave, move aside the ashes of the old man and his first wife, and put in the urn of the second wife into the same grave.
It was a good thing that the old man was in the middle, and the two wives were on either side.The children of the first wife came with their grandchildren and forbade the second wife to take her place.
Pulling and pushing on both sides, one side wanted to put it in,and the other to take it out. All of a sudden, the old man's and the new dead wife's urns dropped to the ground and broke with two snaps.
What were they to do? The ashes of the two urns were mixed together, all gray and white powder. Would they be separated from each other? No, they were now mixed together.
The two families were both startled by what they saw.Suddenly another “snap” was heard. The son of the first wife smashed his mother's urn and said, “Let's mix it up together.I can't let my father and that woman inseparable while my mother is watching alone.”
Finally the three urns of ashes became one. The sons laughed,“Why bother? We all belong to the same family.”
(From Mastering Our Limited Life, Beijing Joint Publishing Company. Translation: Qing Run)
當(dāng)一切化作煙塵
文/劉墉
杰奎琳·李·肯尼迪·奧納西斯Jacqueline Lee Kennedy Onassis
杰奎琳·肯尼迪去世后,照她的遺囑,葬在第一任丈夫約翰·肯尼迪旁邊。新聞出來,議論紛紛:
“杰奎琳真勢(shì)利,哪個(gè)丈夫有名有勢(shì),就葬在誰身邊?!?/p>
“照西方規(guī)矩,女人嫁幾任丈夫,就應(yīng)該掛幾個(gè)姓,她葬在肯尼迪旁邊,是不是墓碑上還刻‘杰奎琳·肯尼迪·奧納西斯’呢?還是把第二任丈夫除了名?”
“奧納西斯真倒霉,到頭來身邊空空,沒一個(gè)人?!?/p>
“你怎么不想想,奧納西斯早葬在他前一任老婆的身邊了呢?”
這倒使我想起一位女同事。
丈夫臨終,把她叫到床邊:“你平常每個(gè)禮拜都要去做頭發(fā)、修指甲,別因?yàn)槲宜懒耍筒辉俅虬?。沒有一個(gè)男人,會(huì)愛邋遢的女人?!?/p>
丈夫又把兒子叫過去:“我死了之后,如果你媽又找到了愛她的男人,你們可不能反對(duì)?!?/p>
說完,就咽了氣。
隔兩三年,這位女同事果然又交了男朋友,也是個(gè)喪偶的人。臨結(jié)婚,她對(duì)我說:“你知道嗎?我跟他結(jié)婚是有條件的,就是我死了之后,一定要埋在我上一任先生的身邊?!?/p>
“他答應(yīng)了嗎?”
“當(dāng)然。”女同事笑道,“他高興還來不及呢。他早要說,一直不敢說,他也希望死掉之后埋在他原來的老婆身邊?!?/p>
伴侶、伴侶,那做伴的成分,可能遠(yuǎn)大于做“愛侶”的成分。尤其是再婚的老伴,誰知道在自己或?qū)Ψ降男牡祝皇锹癫刂环葸^去的愛?
記得一位原本是神仙眷屬的老教授,在太太死去沒多久便再婚了。許多人怪他“變”得太快,仿佛過去的鶼鰈情深,一下子都反諷成“虛情假意”。
終于有個(gè)大膽的學(xué)生問了:“教授,您對(duì)新師母和死去的師母,哪一位愛得比較深?”
教授只是一笑:
“自她死后,我的愛也跟著她死了?!?/p>
這淡淡的一句話,說出了多少情懷!要知道,這世上有許多人,很可能在初戀失敗的那一刻,或年輕喪偶的那一天,便已經(jīng)把自己一生的愛跟著埋葬。剩下的只是身體,在人間過著不得不過的日子。那心中留下的只是情,不是愛。只是平靜地回應(yīng)著、累積著,卻永不再熾烈、燃燒。
我剛寫完《遺忘多年的最愛》那篇散文時(shí),拿給妻看。她很不高興地說:“怎么可能跟一個(gè)人天天躺在同一張床上,心中最愛的卻是另一個(gè)人?”
她八成是懷疑我有什么影射。只是當(dāng)我說:“想想,如果我突然死了,隔一陣你又找到可以做老伴的人,你們結(jié)婚了,請(qǐng)問,你心底的最愛,會(huì)是那個(gè)男人還是我?”她不再吭氣,眼睛里似乎立刻同意了我的看法。
過了幾分鐘,她又說:“可不是嗎?但如果那個(gè)男人是第一次結(jié)婚,就太不公平了。他心底的最愛可能是我,我心底的最愛卻不是他?!?/p>
有個(gè)故事說得妙:
一個(gè)人的太太早死,他跟著又娶了。兩人養(yǎng)了一窩孩子,過得挺好。哪兒知道,過了幾十年,這人死之前,居然堅(jiān)持要埋到上一任太太身邊。
家人照辦了。可又過幾年,第二任太太也死了,也堅(jiān)持要埋到丈夫身邊。
埋葬那天,請(qǐng)墓地工人鑿開墓穴,把老頭子和前任太太的骨灰壇往旁邊挪出個(gè)空位,再把第二任太太的壇子放進(jìn)去。
老爺在中間,前后兩任太太在兩邊,原本挺好的事,沒想到第一任太太生的孩子帶著孫子趕來,硬是不準(zhǔn)第二任太太“就位”。
兩邊拉拉扯扯,一邊要放進(jìn)去,一邊要拿出來。突然,“啪嗒、啪嗒”兩聲,老爺和新死太太的骨灰壇子全掉地上,碎了。
怎么辦??jī)蓧腔一煸谝粔K兒,全是灰灰白白的粉末,要分嗎?不是這堆摻了那堆,就是那堆里有了這堆。
兩家人全愣了。接著,又是“啪嗒”一聲,第一任太太的兒子把他娘的骨灰壇子也砸了下去:“要摻,全摻一塊兒吧??偛荒茏屛野职指莻€(gè)女人難分難舍,卻要我娘孤零零地在旁邊看?!?/p>
三壇骨灰成了一壇。兩任太太生的孩子相對(duì)一笑:“何必呢?全是一家人。”
(摘自《把握我們有限的今生》北京聯(lián)合出版公司)