The year 1998 was the beginning of a remarkable transformation for my family. My father, Jim Dineen, the always-healthy, weightlifting, nevermissed-a-day-of-work kind of dad, discovered he had kidney disease. We don’t really know how he got it, and his road to recovery has been long. But in November 2003, my father received a healthy kidney at Christ Hospital in Cincinnati, where my parents live. My mom, Joyce, was his donor. After years of 1)marital ups and downs, and multiple surgeries for 2)complications of the disease 3)by the dozen, our family dynamic changed for all of us in ways we never could have expected.
　　My parents have certainly had their troubles, and as their child I’ll never know how they made it to 38 years of marriage. They loved each other, but they didn’t seem to like each other very much. Dad 4)talked down to Mom a lot. When she tried to stand up to him, a fight would inevitably follow. They even considered 5)splitting. But ultimately, our parents stayed together, because they believed somehow Fate had a reason for them to remain married, and 6)resigned themselves to sharing their lives, however imperfectly.
　　It was my dad’s disease that began to change things. In the beginning of his illness, he went through hell. In 1999, his 7)electrolytes 8)plummeted so low as a result of 9)diuretics he was taking that he passed out and fell in the 10)bathtub, 11)fracturing both elbows and several ribs and suffering a 12)concussion. He had been put on the 13)steroid 14)prednisone, and initially gained 40 pounds of fluid and almost lived in the bathroom. During it all, my mother stood by, sympathetic and helpful. She was at his side through six stomach surgeries and 35 more procedures to drain fluid that had collected in his 15)abdomen from the prednisone. He and Mom had to work as a team just to get him through the day.
　　The 16)dialysis treatments, which began in 2001, first took place in a clinic, three days a week. Dad’s arm turned black from the needles. It’s no wonder Mom felt terrified when he was approved for at-home dialysis—putting the procedure, and his health, in their hands. Still, she was 17)adamant about not letting him go through it alone. Each night, just like a 18)first officer with the captain of an airliner, Mom went over his checklist with him step by step. At one point when his muscles 19)atrophied, perhaps as a result of the prednisone, she taught him how to walk again. The process seemed to go on and on, tying them both to the house and robbing them of so much freedom.
　　When the donor testing process finally began in the spring of 2003, numerous people, including me, my uncle Tom, and my mom, came back as matches of varying degrees. But Mom was the one who insisted on going further. She said she wasn’t scared, and it was the right thing to do. We all 20)stepped back in amazement.
　　


　　At last a date was chosen—November 11, 2003. All of a sudden, the only thing that seemed to matter to Dad was telling the world what a wonderful thing Mom was doing for him. A month before the surgery, he sent her birthday flowers with a note that read, “I love you and I love your kidney! Thank you!”Although financially trapped, shortly before his surgery day, Dad handed us a diamond 21)pendant that we were to give to Mom after the operation. He’d 22)squirreled away his spare dollars to buy it.
　　The surgeries went well, and not long afterward, my sister and I were allowed to go in to visit. Dad was in a great deal of pain but, again, all he could talk about was Mom. Was she okay? How was she feeling? Then the nurses let us do something 23)unorthodox. As they were wheeling Mom out of the recovery room, they rolled her into a separate 24)alcove to visit Dad. It was 25)surreal to see both our parents hooked up to 26)IVs and machines and trying to talk to each other through tears. The nurses allowed us to present the diamond pendant to Mom so that Dad could watch her open it. Everybody was crying, even the nurses.
　　As I stood with digital camera in hand, I tried to keep the presence of mind to document the moment. My dad was having a hard time fighting back emotion, and suddenly my parents spontaneously reached out to hold each other’s hands. In my nearly 35 years of existence, I’d never seen my parents do that, and I was 27)spellbound. I 28)snapped a picture and later rushed home to make sure I’d captured that enormous, life-defining moment. That photo of my parents’ hands said everything. After so many years of 29)discord, it was apparent to me that they finally understood how much each loved the other.
　　It’s as if the transplant healed our whole family. There’s definitely been a softening to Dad. He’s 30)mellowed, and he has more patience now. He’s not 31)condescending to my mother anymore. Mom, too, has 32)loosened up, since she’s not dealing with all that anger. There’s a closeness that they didn’t have before, and the experience has deepened their faith.
　　For Christmas, my sister and I gave them two framed photos linked together by hooks. The top photo is of their clasped hands on their wedding day, August 7, 1965. Handwritten on the 33)matting it says, “For better or worse, for richer or poorer.” The second photo is of that day in the recovery room. Their hands are intertwined with hospital bands and IVs, and on the matting it says, “In sickness and in health, ’til death do us part.”
　　1998年，我的家庭开始发生巨变。我的父亲，吉姆·迪尼恩，本来身体健康，热爱健身锻炼，从来没有生病请假，却突然被诊断出罹患肾病。我们不知道他患病的确切原因，而且他的康复之路也十分漫长。但是在2003年11月份，当时和我母亲生活在辛辛那提的他在基督教医院接受了一颗健康肾脏的移植。肾脏的捐赠者就是我的母亲乔伊斯。经过了多年的婚姻起伏，以及因并发症而接受的数十次复杂手术，我们的家庭态势发生了改变，这是我们全家人都未曾预料到的。
　　我的父母当然有着各自的问题，作为他们的孩子，我一直都想不明白他们如何能坚守3 8年的婚姻生活。他们爱着对方，但是他们似乎不太喜欢对方。父亲总是以高人一等的语气跟母亲说话。而当母亲试图与他抗争时，总免不了以吵闹收场。他们甚至考虑过要离婚。可是最终，我的父母还是继续在一起，因为他们相信能结为连理是冥冥之中的安排，所以尽管婚姻生活有诸多不完美，还是安下心来继续跟对方一起生活。
　　是父亲的疾病开始改变这一切。患病初期，他过着地狱般的生活。1999年，他因为服用利尿剂而使得体内的电解质水平骤然下跌，以致于他昏倒过去，跌到浴缸里，摔断了两只手肘和几根肋骨，脑部也受到震荡。他接受类固醇强的松注射，一开始时他的体内增加了40磅液体，几乎得一直在厕所里呆着。在这期间，我母亲时刻守护在旁，无比同情，无微不至。父亲做了六次腹部手术和超过35个治疗项目以排掉其体内因为服用强的松而积聚在腹部的液体，母亲则陪伴着父亲经历这一切。为了让父亲度过每一天，他们两人必须相互紧密合作。
　　父亲的血液透析治疗于2001年开始，起初在诊所进行，每周做三天。父亲的手臂因为扎针的次数太多而淤青了。难怪当医生批准父亲在家做血液透析时，母亲感到害怕极了——因为这相当于把这些程序以及父亲的健康交到了他们两人的手上。母亲依然很坚定，不肯让父亲独自经受这一切。每天晚上，就像飞机机长和大副一样，母亲和父亲一起逐项查看父亲的检查清单。有一段时期，父亲的肌肉出现萎缩，可能是服用强的松的原因，母亲还教他如何重新走路。整个过程似乎没完没了，把两人都困在家里，剥夺了他们如此多的自由。
　　2003年春天，捐赠测试终于开始了，包括我、叔叔汤姆和母亲在内的好几个人都发现有不同程度的匹配度。但是母亲却是那个坚持捐赠的人。她说自己并不感到害怕，觉得这样做是对的。我们全都在惊诧中让了步。
　　最后，手术日期确定为2003年11月11日。突然之间，父亲在意的唯一一件事情，就是告诉这个世界，母亲为他做了一件多么美好的事。手术前一个月，他在母亲生日时送了她一束花，上面的字条上写着：“我爱你，我也爱你的肾脏！谢谢你！”尽管身陷财务危机，在手术前不久，父亲递给我们一个钻石吊坠，让我们在他手术后替他送给母亲。这是他用偷偷藏起的私房钱买的。
　　手术很成功，术后不久，我和妹妹便被允许进去探望父亲。父亲当时还很痛苦，但是，又一次，他提到的全都关于母亲。她还好吗？她感觉如何？护士还破例让我们做了一件事。当他们把母亲用轮椅推出康复病房时，他们把她推到一间独立的凹室和父亲见面。看着我们的父母都连接着输液管和仪器，两眼噙满泪水地试着交谈，这样的场景太不真实了。护士准许我们把钻石吊坠送给母亲，好让父亲看着她打开礼盒。每个人都感动得哭了，护士也哭了。
　　我手中握着数码相机，站在那里，试图保持清醒，好记录下这一时刻。父亲艰难地克制住情感，突然，我的父母同时伸手握住对方。在将近35年的人生经历中，我从未见过父母这样做，看得我目瞪口呆。我拍了一张照片，然后冲回家去确认我记录下了当时那个珍贵时刻。父母亲紧握双手的那张照片道明了一切。在这么多年的吵吵闹闹之后，我清楚地看到，他们终于明白彼此是多么深爱着对方。
　　这次器官移植使得我们整个家庭似乎和解了一般。父亲变得温和了，这一点毋庸置疑。父亲和气了很多，也更有耐心。他对母亲再也不是一副高高在上的样子。而母亲，也轻松了许多，因为再没人向她发泄怒气了。他们之间多了一份从前没有的亲密，这一切经历使他们更加坚定了信念。
　　圣诞节时，我和妹妹送给他们两张用钩子连在一起的镶框照片。上面的一张是1965年8月7日，他们在婚礼上紧握彼此的双手。相框上面写着：“无论未来是好是坏、富贵或贫穷。”第二张照片是在康复病房拍的那张。他们十指相扣，手上还缠着医院的胶布和输液管，而这个相框上则写着：“无论是疾病还是健康，直到死亡将我们分开。”