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For my dad’s 60th birthday last week， I wanted to do something really fun. My dad and I talk a lot about the past—nostalgia[怀旧] runs in our blood， I think—and we both love to reminisce[追忆]. Inspired by some birthday posters， I started batting around[充分考虑] an idea： what if I could get everyone from my dad’s past to contribute[贡献] a memory they had of him？ What if I had all those people send their memories to me， and then I put each one into an envelope—60 total， of course—and had him open them， one by one， on his birthday？
That would be a lot of memories， right？
So I wrote an email. I sent it to family， to friends， to aunties and uncles we’d grown up calling aunties and uncles even though they weren’t related by blood. This is what I said： “…If you’re receiving this email， you probably know that our dad， Patrick Burns， is turning 60 next month （much as he would hate us to be reminding everyone， I’m sure）. To celebrate his birthday， we’d like to put together a little surprise to let him know that his nearest and dearest are thinking of him. We’re going to try and create ‘60 Years of Memories’ by filling 60 envelopes with a memory his friends and family have of him. If you have a spare[空闲的] moment in the next few days， we would be so grateful if you’d jot down[简短地写下] a favorite memory you have of our dad and put it in the post. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy[特别的]—you can just write it down on a piece of paper and sign your name. You can mention anything you like—although the more nostalgic the better！ Please absolutely feel free to send more than one memory， but make sure you write them on different pieces of paper so we can split[分开] them up. Thank you so， so， so much for participating—we know everyone is busy with their own lives， and we do appreciate[感激] you taking a few minutes to do this； it will be so worth it when he reads all the memories people have of him！ Please don’t forget to keep it a surprise until then…”
So I sent the email and then I waited. And then the replies started coming in. I was flabbergasted[感到震惊] and I do not use that word lightly. There were so many memories， and they were all so lovely. They came from the 50s， the 60s， the 70s， from every decade[十年] between now and the day my dad was born. They came from my mother， my siblings[兄弟姐妹]， my grandma， my dad’s friends from high school， his sister， an old girlfriend， my mother’s old boyfriend， my dad’s first boss， a colleague at his first job， from people who remembered people no longer with us， from people who hadn’t seen my dad in 40 years， from people I hadn’t even contacted originally but who had been told about the project by someone else. They typed them and handwrote them. They mailed them and emailed them. I collected them for two weeks， my heart pinging[乒乓作响] with excitement each time a new one arrived. The night before his birthday， my sister and I stayed up late， putting everything together. I had some vintage[经典的] airmail envelopes left over from my wedding and I bought a packet of numbered[编号] stickers[图文标签] after a fraught[焦虑的] half hour of anxious[让人担忧的] math， trying to decide how many we’d need. We numbered the envelopes from one to 60， then we tucked[折进] a different memory into each.
And then， on the morning of his birthday， after breakfast and presents and cake， we gave them to him. “Just one more thing for you，” we said.
It took him a really， really， really long time to open them. Each one was a brief ticket to another time， a leap[跳跃] backwards over years and decades into the past. There was a lot of laughter， and—I don’t think my dad will mind me telling you this—a few tears too.
In a way， I’m sort of sad that this project is over because it was a huge amount of fun to collect and collate[整理] all of these memories， many of them occurring years before I was even born. It gave me a different picture of my dad， one woven together by all the people from his past， all those people who—weirdly and peripherally—put into action the sequence[系列] of events that led to my life as I know it.
Turns out， you can make a lot of memories in sixty years. And then， if you’re lucky， you can relive[再次体验] them all over again.
上周是我老爸的六十大寿，我想要做点非常好玩的事情。老爸和我时常聊起旧日的时光——我认为那是因为在我们血液中流淌着怀旧情结——我俩都喜欢追忆往昔。受到一些生日海报的启发，我开始反复思考一个想法：我能不能让老爸以前认识的每一个人都贡献一段他们关于他的回忆呢？我能不能让所有这些人都把他们的回忆发给我，然后把每一段回忆都装进一个信封里——当然了，总共60个信封——然后让他在生日那天一个一个地打开呢？
那将会是许多的回忆，不是吗？
于是，我写了一封邮件。我将它发给各个家庭成员，发给许多朋友，发给那些即便没有血缘关系，但我们从小到大都称其为叔叔和阿姨的人。我在邮件里是这样写的：“……如果您收到这封邮件，您或许认识我们的老爸帕特里克·伯恩斯，他下个月将步入六十岁了（我相信我们这样提醒每个人，他会很不高兴的）。为了庆祝他的生日，我们想要一起制造一个小惊喜，让他知道他最亲密和最亲爱的人们都在想着他。我们将要用亲朋好友对他的记忆来填满六十个信封，试着创造一段‘六十年的回忆’。如果您在接下来的几天里有点空闲时间，如果您能信手写下一笔有关我们老爸的最美好的回忆并将之投进邮筒，我们将不胜感激。形式不需要奇特——将其写在一张纸上，并署上您的签名就可以了。您可以提及您喜欢的任何事情——虽然越怀旧越好！尽管寄来更多的回忆，但请您确保将它们分别写在不同的纸张上，以便我们分装。非常非常非常感谢您的参与——我们知道每个人都忙于各自的生活，但如果您能抽出几分钟的时间做这件事，我们确实无比感激；当他阅读所有这些关于他的回忆时，一切都是非常值得的！请不要忘记保守这个惊喜直到那一刻的到来……”
就这样，我发出了这封邮件，等候回音。接着，回信开始陆续到来。我惊呆了，我并不是随便用这个词的。收到的回忆如此之多，而且全都如此可爱。它们来自于50年代、60年代、70年代，来自于从现在回溯到我老爸出生那天的每一个十年。它们来自于我的母亲，我的兄弟姐妹，我的祖母，我老爸高中时代的朋友们，他的姐妹，他的一位前女友，我母亲的前男友，我老爸的第一任老板，他第一份工作的一位同僚；来自于那些还记得早已离我们而去的逝者的人；来自于那些已经四十年没见过我老爸的人；来自于那些我刚开始甚至都未曾联系，但从别人处得知这一计划的人。他们或打字，或手写。他们或通过信件，或通过邮件寄出。我花了两周的时间来收集回信，每当一有新的回信到达时，我的心都会兴奋得砰砰作响。
在他生日的前夜，姐姐和我一起待到很晚，将所有的东西归置齐整。我还留着一些古色古香的航空邮件信封，那是我婚礼时用剩的。我烦恼了半个小时，满心焦虑地做算术，以决定我们需要的标签数量。然后，我买了一包带数字的标签。我们将信封从1到60进行编号，接着在每个信封里装入一段不同的回忆。
接下来，在他生日的那天清早，等吃完早餐、送完礼物、切完蛋糕，我们才把信封送给他。“再多送你一样东西，”我们说。
打开这些信封花了他很长很长很长的时间。每一封信都是一张回程小票，让人回到另一段时光，跳回到多年以前的曾经。那天有着许多的欢笑——我想老爸不会介意我告诉你们这个的——也有着一些泪水。
在某种程度上说，这个计划的结束让我颇有点感伤，因为收集和整理所有这些回忆给我带来了巨大的乐趣，其中许多甚至发生在我仍未出世的久远年代。它让我认识了一个不同的老爸，一个由所有来自于他的过去的人们编织的老爸，无论这些人与我们的联系有多么奇怪、多么薄弱，发生在他们身上的一连串的不同事件，都造就了如今我所拥有的人生。
其结论是，在六十年的时间里，你能制造出许许多多的回忆。而且，如果幸运的话，你还能够再次重温所有这些旧日时光。
That would be a lot of memories， right？
So I wrote an email. I sent it to family， to friends， to aunties and uncles we’d grown up calling aunties and uncles even though they weren’t related by blood. This is what I said： “…If you’re receiving this email， you probably know that our dad， Patrick Burns， is turning 60 next month （much as he would hate us to be reminding everyone， I’m sure）. To celebrate his birthday， we’d like to put together a little surprise to let him know that his nearest and dearest are thinking of him. We’re going to try and create ‘60 Years of Memories’ by filling 60 envelopes with a memory his friends and family have of him. If you have a spare[空闲的] moment in the next few days， we would be so grateful if you’d jot down[简短地写下] a favorite memory you have of our dad and put it in the post. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy[特别的]—you can just write it down on a piece of paper and sign your name. You can mention anything you like—although the more nostalgic the better！ Please absolutely feel free to send more than one memory， but make sure you write them on different pieces of paper so we can split[分开] them up. Thank you so， so， so much for participating—we know everyone is busy with their own lives， and we do appreciate[感激] you taking a few minutes to do this； it will be so worth it when he reads all the memories people have of him！ Please don’t forget to keep it a surprise until then…”
So I sent the email and then I waited. And then the replies started coming in. I was flabbergasted[感到震惊] and I do not use that word lightly. There were so many memories， and they were all so lovely. They came from the 50s， the 60s， the 70s， from every decade[十年] between now and the day my dad was born. They came from my mother， my siblings[兄弟姐妹]， my grandma， my dad’s friends from high school， his sister， an old girlfriend， my mother’s old boyfriend， my dad’s first boss， a colleague at his first job， from people who remembered people no longer with us， from people who hadn’t seen my dad in 40 years， from people I hadn’t even contacted originally but who had been told about the project by someone else. They typed them and handwrote them. They mailed them and emailed them. I collected them for two weeks， my heart pinging[乒乓作响] with excitement each time a new one arrived. The night before his birthday， my sister and I stayed up late， putting everything together. I had some vintage[经典的] airmail envelopes left over from my wedding and I bought a packet of numbered[编号] stickers[图文标签] after a fraught[焦虑的] half hour of anxious[让人担忧的] math， trying to decide how many we’d need. We numbered the envelopes from one to 60， then we tucked[折进] a different memory into each.
And then， on the morning of his birthday， after breakfast and presents and cake， we gave them to him. “Just one more thing for you，” we said.
It took him a really， really， really long time to open them. Each one was a brief ticket to another time， a leap[跳跃] backwards over years and decades into the past. There was a lot of laughter， and—I don’t think my dad will mind me telling you this—a few tears too.
In a way， I’m sort of sad that this project is over because it was a huge amount of fun to collect and collate[整理] all of these memories， many of them occurring years before I was even born. It gave me a different picture of my dad， one woven together by all the people from his past， all those people who—weirdly and peripherally—put into action the sequence[系列] of events that led to my life as I know it.
Turns out， you can make a lot of memories in sixty years. And then， if you’re lucky， you can relive[再次体验] them all over again.
上周是我老爸的六十大寿，我想要做点非常好玩的事情。老爸和我时常聊起旧日的时光——我认为那是因为在我们血液中流淌着怀旧情结——我俩都喜欢追忆往昔。受到一些生日海报的启发，我开始反复思考一个想法：我能不能让老爸以前认识的每一个人都贡献一段他们关于他的回忆呢？我能不能让所有这些人都把他们的回忆发给我，然后把每一段回忆都装进一个信封里——当然了，总共60个信封——然后让他在生日那天一个一个地打开呢？
那将会是许多的回忆，不是吗？
于是，我写了一封邮件。我将它发给各个家庭成员，发给许多朋友，发给那些即便没有血缘关系，但我们从小到大都称其为叔叔和阿姨的人。我在邮件里是这样写的：“……如果您收到这封邮件，您或许认识我们的老爸帕特里克·伯恩斯，他下个月将步入六十岁了（我相信我们这样提醒每个人，他会很不高兴的）。为了庆祝他的生日，我们想要一起制造一个小惊喜，让他知道他最亲密和最亲爱的人们都在想着他。我们将要用亲朋好友对他的记忆来填满六十个信封，试着创造一段‘六十年的回忆’。如果您在接下来的几天里有点空闲时间，如果您能信手写下一笔有关我们老爸的最美好的回忆并将之投进邮筒，我们将不胜感激。形式不需要奇特——将其写在一张纸上，并署上您的签名就可以了。您可以提及您喜欢的任何事情——虽然越怀旧越好！尽管寄来更多的回忆，但请您确保将它们分别写在不同的纸张上，以便我们分装。非常非常非常感谢您的参与——我们知道每个人都忙于各自的生活，但如果您能抽出几分钟的时间做这件事，我们确实无比感激；当他阅读所有这些关于他的回忆时，一切都是非常值得的！请不要忘记保守这个惊喜直到那一刻的到来……”
就这样，我发出了这封邮件，等候回音。接着，回信开始陆续到来。我惊呆了，我并不是随便用这个词的。收到的回忆如此之多，而且全都如此可爱。它们来自于50年代、60年代、70年代，来自于从现在回溯到我老爸出生那天的每一个十年。它们来自于我的母亲，我的兄弟姐妹，我的祖母，我老爸高中时代的朋友们，他的姐妹，他的一位前女友，我母亲的前男友，我老爸的第一任老板，他第一份工作的一位同僚；来自于那些还记得早已离我们而去的逝者的人；来自于那些已经四十年没见过我老爸的人；来自于那些我刚开始甚至都未曾联系，但从别人处得知这一计划的人。他们或打字，或手写。他们或通过信件，或通过邮件寄出。我花了两周的时间来收集回信，每当一有新的回信到达时，我的心都会兴奋得砰砰作响。
在他生日的前夜，姐姐和我一起待到很晚，将所有的东西归置齐整。我还留着一些古色古香的航空邮件信封，那是我婚礼时用剩的。我烦恼了半个小时，满心焦虑地做算术，以决定我们需要的标签数量。然后，我买了一包带数字的标签。我们将信封从1到60进行编号，接着在每个信封里装入一段不同的回忆。
接下来，在他生日的那天清早，等吃完早餐、送完礼物、切完蛋糕，我们才把信封送给他。“再多送你一样东西，”我们说。
打开这些信封花了他很长很长很长的时间。每一封信都是一张回程小票，让人回到另一段时光，跳回到多年以前的曾经。那天有着许多的欢笑——我想老爸不会介意我告诉你们这个的——也有着一些泪水。
在某种程度上说，这个计划的结束让我颇有点感伤，因为收集和整理所有这些回忆给我带来了巨大的乐趣，其中许多甚至发生在我仍未出世的久远年代。它让我认识了一个不同的老爸，一个由所有来自于他的过去的人们编织的老爸，无论这些人与我们的联系有多么奇怪、多么薄弱，发生在他们身上的一连串的不同事件，都造就了如今我所拥有的人生。
其结论是，在六十年的时间里，你能制造出许许多多的回忆。而且，如果幸运的话，你还能够再次重温所有这些旧日时光。