After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love. I started to go out with another woman. It was really my wife's idea.
“I know that you love her,” she said one day, taking me by surprise. “But I love YOU,” I protested. “I know, but you also love her.”
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What's wrong, are you well?” she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to pass some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, then said, “I would like that very much.”
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,” she said, as she got into the car. “They can't wait to hear about our meeting.”
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded.
During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation — nothing extraordinary — but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.
A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her. At that moment I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time”.
结婚21年后，我发现了保持爱之火花的一种新方法。我开始与另一个女人出去约会。其实这还是我妻子的主意呢。
“我知道你爱她，”有一天她对我说，这令我感到惊奇。“但我也爱你，”我声明。“我知道，不过，你也爱她。”
我妻子想让我去拜访的另一个女人就是我的妈妈，她守寡19年了，但由于我的工作需要以及有三个孩子要抚养，我很少有机会去看望她。那天晚上，我打电话约她吃饭看电影。“出什么事了?你还好吧?”她问。我妈妈是那种认为深夜电话或出其不意的邀请代表坏消息征兆的女人。“我觉得与您共度一段时间将是一件愉快的事，”我这样回答。“就我们两个人。”她想了一想，便说：“其实我很想这样。”
于是周五下班后，我开车去接她。我有点儿不安。到了她的住所，我注意到，她对我们的约会好像也有些紧张。她穿着外套在门口等我。她将头发盘了起来，并且穿着最后一次结婚纪念日那天穿的套装，天使般容光焕发的脸上带着笑容。“我告诉朋友们我要跟儿子出去约会，他们都很感动，”上车时她对我说。“他们急迫地想了解我们约会的情况。”
我们去了一家虽不是一流却很优雅舒适的饭店。妈妈挽着我的手臂，宛如第一夫人。我们坐下后，我开始看菜单。她的眼睛现在只能看清一些大字。透过条目的缝隙，我抬眼看到妈妈正坐在那儿盯着我，嘴上带着怀旧的笑容。“你小的时候，都是我看菜单，”她说。“现在轮到您休息了，该我回报您了，”我答道。
吃饭的时候，我们谈得很愉快——也没什么特别的事——只是简单描述一下彼此生活中最近发生的事。我们谈得太尽兴以至错过了看电影。当我送她回到家时，她说：“我会再跟你出去约会，但必须是我邀请你。”我同意了。
“饭吃得怎么样啊?”回到家时我妻子问。“非常好。比我想象中要好得多。”我回答。
几天后，妈妈由于严重的心脏病发作去世了。发生的如此突然以至我没有机会为她做任何事。那一刻，我明白了及时说出“我爱你”以及给予我们所爱的人他们应该得到的时间的重要性。生命中没有什么比你的家庭更重要。多花些时间陪陪你的家人，因为这些事情不能被推迟到“改天”。
