填空题

    In the doorway of my home, I looked closely at my 23-year-old son, Daniel.In a few hours he would be flying to France to1a different life.It was a transitional(过渡的)time in Daniel’s life.I wanted to2him some words of significance.But nothing came from my lips, and this was not the3time I had let such moments pass.When Daniel was five, I took him to the bus stop on his first day of kindergarten.He asked, “What is it going to be like, Dad?Can I do it?” Then he walked4the steps of the bus and disappeared inside.The bus drove away and I said nothing.A decade later, a similar5played itself out.I drove him to college.As I started to leave, I tried to think of something to say to give him6and confidence as he started this new stage of life.Again, words7me.Now, as I stood before him, I thought of those8opportunities.How many times have I let such moments9?I don’t find a quiet moment to tell him what they have10to me.Or what he might11to face in the years ahead.Maybe I thought it was not necessary to say anything.What does it matter in the course of a lifetime if a father never tells a son what he really thinks of him?12as I stood before Daniel, I knew that it did matter.My father and I loved each other.Yet, I always13never hearing him put his14into words.Now I could feel my palms sweat and my throat tighten.Why is it so15to tell a son something from the heart?My mouth turned dry, and I knew I would be able to get out only a few words clearly.“Daniel,” I said, “If I could have picked, I would have picked you.” That's all I could say.He hugged me.For a moment, the world16, and there were just Daniel and me.He was saying something, but tears misted my eyes, and I couldn’t understand what he was saying.All I was17of was the stubble(短须)on his chin as his face pressed18mine.What I had said to Daniel was19.It was nothing.And yet, it was20.


    火星搜题