All Mum’s Letter
母亲的信
Capuzzi Locke/卡布兹·洛克
To this day I remember my mum‘s letters.It all started in December 1941.Every night she sat at the big T table in the kitchen and wrote to my brother Johnny，who had been drafted that summer.We had not heard from him since the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
直到今天我还记得妈妈写的那些信。这一切要从1941年12月说起，每天晚上妈妈都要坐在厨房里的大桌子前，给我哥哥约翰尼写信。约翰尼是那年夏季应征入伍的，自从日本突袭了珍珠港，我们就再也没有了他的音讯。
I didn’t understand why my mum kept writing Johnny when he never wrote back.
“Wait and see—we‘ll get a letter from him one day，”she claimed.I don’t know if she said that to calm herself，dad or all of us down，but I do know that it helped us stick together，and one day a letter really did arrive，Johnny was alive on an island in the Pacific.
I had always been amused by the fact that mum signed her letters，“Cecilia Capuzzi”，and I teased her about that.“Why don‘t you just write ’Mum‘？”I said.
I hadn’t been aware that she always thought of herself as Cecilia Capuzzh Not as Mum，I began seeing her in a new sight，this small delicate woman，who even in high-heeled shoes was barely one and a half metres tall.
那时我并不理解妈妈为什么在约翰尼从未回过一封信的情况下，还要坚持给他写信。
“等等看——总有一天我们会收到他的信的，”她说道。我不知道她说这些是不是在安慰她自己和爸爸，或者我们大家，但我知道她的话确实把我们的心系在一起。后来果然有一天，信真的来了。约翰尼还活着，他在太平洋的一个小岛上。
那时有一件事我时常觉得好笑——妈妈在信后的签名竟然是“塞西莉娅？卡布兹”，于是我调侃她说：“为什么你不直接签上‘妈妈’呢？”
在此之前我从未察觉她一直把自己称为“塞西莉娅？卡布兹”，而不是“妈妈”。于是我开始用种新的眼光来审视这位娇小玲珑、穿上高跟鞋还不足150公分高的女子。
She never wore make-up or jewelry except for a wedding ring of gold.Her hair was fine，sleek and black and always put up in a knot in the neck.She wouldn‘t hear of getting a haircut or a perm.Her small silver-rimmed pince-nez only left her nose when she went to bed.
Whenever mum had finished a letter，she gave it to dad for him to post it.Then she put the water on to boil，and we sat down at the table and talked about the good old days when our Italian-American family had been a family often—mum，dad and eight children，five boys and three girls.It is hard to understand that they had all moved away from home to work，enroll in the army，or get married.All except me.
她向来素面朝天，除了一枚结婚金戒外不佩戴任何首饰。她有一头秀发，乌黑顺滑，在颈部的位置上扎起来。她从不听从剪发或者烫发的劝告。她那架在鼻梁上的银边眼镜，只有在入睡前才会离开她的鼻子。
无论什么时候写完一封信，妈妈都会把信交给爸爸去邮寄。接着，她还会烧上一壶水，然后我们一同坐在桌前，谈论着往昔那些美好的日子，从前我们这个意大利裔的美国家庭总共有十口人——妈妈、爸爸以及八个孩子，其中包括五个男孩和三个女孩。真难以想像，此时他们要么离家工作，要么进了部队，要么结了婚。家中就只剩下我一个孩子了。
Around next spring，mum had got two more sons to write to.Every evening she wrote three different letters which she gave to me and dad afterwards so we could add our greetings.
Little by little the rumour about mum’s letters spread.One day a small woman knocked at our door.Her voice trembled as she asked，“Is it true you write letters？”
“I write to my sons.”
“And you can read，too？”whispered the woman.
“Sure.”
大概是在第二年春天，妈妈开始要给另两个儿子写信了。每天傍晚，她都会写上三封不同的信，然后把这些信交给我和爸爸，让我们加上自己的祝福。
久而久之，有关妈妈写信的传闻散播开了。一天，一位矮小的女人敲响了我们家的门，她颤着嗓音问道：“你写信的事是真的吗？”
“我在给我的儿子写信。”
“这么说你也能读信喽？”那个女人低声问道。
“当然。”
The woman opened her bag and pulled out a pile of air mail letters.“Read...please read them aloud to me.”
The letters were from the woman‘s son who was a soldier in Europe，a red-haired boy who mum remembered having seen sitting with his brothers on the stairs in front of our house.Mum read the letters one by one and translated them from English to Italian，The woman’s eyes welled up with tears.“Now I have to write to him，”she said.But how was she going to do it？
