国家地理:难以适应的新常态(4)

My husband is a labor lawyer, his days consumed with pandemic-collapsed businesses and workers losing their paychecks. During the outdoor walks we are still permitted to take, we keep reminding each other to notice spring poppies as we distance-veer back and forth, alert to the sound of the phones in our pockets. His sister might be calling, or my brothers, our son, our cousins, our oldest friends. Even on duty, the paramedic daughter checks in occasionally, from the ambulance, between hospital runs.

我丈夫是劳工律师，他的生活里充满因疫情倒闭的企业以及丢掉饭碗的劳工。在我们进行着仍被允许的户外散步时，我们不断变换位置，保持一前一后的距离，同时提醒彼此要欣赏春天的罂粟，并留意着口袋里手机的声音。我丈夫的妹妹可能会打来，或者我的弟弟们、我们的儿子、表亲、我们的老朋友。身为护理人员的女儿，即使在值班，偶尔也会在来回医院的途中，从救护车上打来报平安。

The mission is reassurance. We all understand that. She hits the FaceTime prompt, if the signal is good enough. During one of the calls, she smiles at us from the little screen and reminds us how we used to assume she would one day take a temporary posting someplace far away and tough, a war zone or a desert refugee camp.

重点是让彼此放心。我们都懂这一点。如果信号够好，她会接起FaceTime的视频电话。在一次通话中，她从小屏幕上对我们微笑，并说起从前我们猜想她总有一天会被临时派驻到某个遥远且环境恶劣的地方，例如战地或沙漠里的难民营。

"All we have to do is pretend that's where I am," she says. "And look how lucky we are. With these technological devices, we can see each other from opposite sides of the world." So we have that, for now, for as long as it takes. We will cherish it. We will make it be enough.

“我们要做的就是假装我人在那里，”她说。“然后看看我们有多幸运。多亏这些科技设备，我们就能从世界的两端看见彼此。”所以我们可以这么做，无论只是短暂的，或是直到疫情结束为止。我们会珍惜。我们会知足。