I grew up deprived of hugs. Neither of my parents was the cuddly type. Greet

游客2023-11-16  33

问题     I grew up deprived of hugs. Neither of my parents was the cuddly type. Greetings involving kissing caused me to wince, and hugging generally just made me feel awkward.
    Then one hug changed all that. One month before my 40th birthday my dad had heart surgery. As he came round, days later, he grabbed me and hugged me so hard I had to push with all my might to keep my head from pressing down on his newly stitched torso.
    It was a hug to make up for all those we had never had. Days later as he slowly started to gain strength he told me for the first time ever that he loved me, and through my tears I told him I loved him, too.
    I began planning how to bake him better—with carrot cakes, victoria sponges, jelly and ice cream. My maternal streak kicked in and I fantasied about wheeling him through the park and feeding him home-made goodies. Then he died.
    I felt cheated. All my life I had wondered whether my dad cared for me and loved me—I doubted it. Just as I got proof that he did, he passed away.
    My parents split up when I was two years old and, while I had monthly contact with my dad, my bitter stepmother and my father’s old-fashioned stiff upper lip meant we never became close. In fact, I used to dread the visits to see him and count the hours until I could go home again.
    When I was very little the weekends at my father’s house felt cold and unfriendly. During my teens the trips to a hostile house became a dread on the horizon for weeks beforehand. Each stay culminated in an uncomfortable peck on the cheek from dad as he said goodbye—a moment I cringed about for hours in advance.
    Losing a father whom you have no recollection of ever living with is difficult. Grieving is tricky; I didn’t have any obvious close father-daughter memories to cling to and think and cry over. Most of my memories were of stilted meetings and uncomfortable times together. But I desperately missed him being alive.
    As time moved on my grief and anger at his untimely death began to recede. I realized that his affirmation of me from his deathbed had filled a gaping hole of insecurity I had constantly carried around.
    To a child a hug says too many things. It tells you that the person hugging you loves you, cares for you. A hug also confirms that you are a lovable being. Months after dad’s death I realized with a jolt that his lack of hugs said more about him than me. My father was not a demonstrative man and I was, therefore, perhaps, a lovable being. [br] In the end, the author seemed to gain

选项 A、understanding.
B、popularity.
C、confidence.
D、recognition.

答案 C

解析 推断题。由题干中的In the end定位至末段。由第三句及末句可知,作者终于认识到父亲不拥抱她不是因为自己不可爱,而是因为父亲不善于表达。可见,她最终肯定了自己,即获得了自信,C为答案。
转载请注明原文地址:https://tihaiku.com/zcyy/3192217.html
最新回复(0)