restraints, fold back the metal pieces which often scrape his delicate, paper-thin skin.
他无法从轮椅上站起来。不是说他能常常靠自己站起身来，但是偶尔，他会突然来那么一股子劲儿。我弯下身，把他的脚从脚蹬里拿出来，收起经常把他脆弱的、薄纸般的皮肤擦伤的金属脚踏。
\“来，你现在可以站起来了。”
He grips the walker and struggles forward. Gradually I lift and pull him to his feet. Standing unsteadily, he sways and then gains his balance.
他抓住助步车，努力往前起身。慢慢地，我连拖带拽地帮他站了起来。他站在那儿，有点儿不稳，摇摇晃晃，然后才站稳了。
\the small of your back. Now - forward, march!\
“看，你做到了！太好了！好吧，我就跟在你后面，我会用手扶着你的腰。好，往前，往前走！”
He is impatient with the walker as I accompany him to the dining room. I help him to his chair, and hand him a spoon. It slips from his fingers. Pureed tuna is heaped on a plastic plate. I encourage him, sing him old songs, tell stories, but he won't eat. When I lift a spoonful of gray fishy stuff to his mouth, he says politely, \don't care for any.\
我陪着他往餐厅走，一路上他对助步车很不耐烦。我扶他在椅子上坐下，递给他一把勺子。勺子从他的指间滑落。塑料餐盘上是一堆金枪鱼肉糜。我鼓励他吃，唱老歌给他听，给他讲故事，但是他不肯吃。当我举起一勺灰灰的鱼肉糜送到他嘴边时，他客气地说：“我一点儿也不想吃。” Nor would I.
换了我，我也不想吃。
Then I take the small smelly package covered in white wrapping paper from a plastic bag. He loves presents, and he reaches forward with awkward fingers to try to open it. The smell fills the room.
于是，我从一个塑料袋里取出一小包用白纸包着的带着腥味的东西。他喜欢礼物。他伸手用不怎么灵活手指试着打开纸包。房间里满是鱼腥味。
\seller near the Potomac, I found some smoked eel.\
“看，爸爸，他们已经断货好几个月了。今天早上，我终于在波托马克河附近的鱼贩子那里找到了一些熏鳗鱼。”
We unwrap it, and then I take out the Swiss Army Knife my beloved aunt gave me \
我们把纸包打开，然后我拿出我亲爱的姨妈送给我的那把“防身用”的瑞士军刀，切开银色的鱼肉。
\“多么美妙的野餐啊，”父亲笑容满面地说。
He takes a sip of his champagne, and then with steady fingers picks up a slice of eel and downs it easily. Then another, and another, until he eats the whole piece. And again, time slows down and the love flows in - daughter to father and back
again.
他呼了一口香槟，然后用一点儿也不哆嗦的手指捏起一片鳗鱼肉，轻松地咽了下去。接着，他吃了一片又一片，直到把整块鱼吃完。再一次，时光在此刻驻足，爱意在此刻流淌——从女儿流向父亲，又从父亲流向女儿。