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与至亲至爱生死离别之时,最教人撕心裂肺。一次次阅读这篇文章,作者忆起在夜里给母亲唱歌的那个温情片段,让人感受到回忆的美好之余亦揪心不已。谁不愿相信,有一种爱,至死不渝。
――Lavender
You asked me to sing to you. I complained, “1)Aw, Mom, I’ll wake people up.” Once again, I let my ever-present 2)stage fright come before you. Looking back, it’s hard to believe I was so selfish. But you persisted, and eventually I 3)caved.
I sang our favorites―4)Barbara Streisand, 5)Linda Ronstadt and 6)Bette Midler. My voice was quiet and 7)hushed, 8)commensurate with the dim light in the room. I made sure the sound didn’t penetrate the walls. You listened with your eyes closed, then thanked me and told me how lovely and peaceful it was.
When we brought you home that last week in January, I would sit with you in the evenings. I read to you from 9)The Tragedy of Richard the Third, knowing it was your favorite. Of course, I made sarcastic comments along the way. “Lady Anne was the biggest idiot in the world.” My eyes searched yours for a response, hoping they would open and smile at my 10)glib attempts.
I read you poetry from 11)Robbie Burns and 12)Walt Whitman, and rubbed 13)lotion on your hands. Finally, I worked up the courage to sing to you again. You weren’t able to ask me this time. Grandma peeked through the door and gave us a tearful smile. I stopped. “Keep singing to your mother,” she said. When I finished Dad asked me, “Would you sing at the memorial service?” You were lying right beside me, and suddenly it seemed so 14)perverse to have this conversation in front of you. “I don’t know if I can. I’ll try.” We didn’t speak of it again.
That Saturday, after you were gone, I went home and practiced with a little help from the 15)Absolut bottle. I needed you to hear me one last time, beautiful and unblemished.
And then there I was, standing at the 16)podium. I hadn’t told anyone what was planned in case I 17)chickened out. While the minister told me when to come up during the service, Shirley, who was giving the 18)eulogy asked, “But what if someone stands up before Jennifer?” I shot back, “Well, now―they’ll just have to wait, won’t they?” She laughed, “You are just like your mother.” I smiled and thanked her for the compliment.
My hands shook as I faced the microphone. I spoke a few words to gather my courage and 19)compose myself. Then, very quietly, I sang20)Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
I thought back to when I was a little girl. You would call me on the phone during one of your trips to watch 21)The Wizard of Oz with me on TV. Miles apart and 22)racking up the long distance charges, we would both squeal during the 23)tornado scene. We sang duets, and trios when Ashlea rode in the car with us. It was our song.
I finished the last line, “If happy little 24)bluebirds fly, beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I?” Then I whispered, “Mom, you have beautiful wings now. May they take you wherever you want to go...”
At least a hundred people witnessed the most difficult moment of my life, but only one person mattered. Of course I will sing for you, Mom. Feel free to ask me any time.
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你让我唱歌给你听。我怨叨着:“唉呀,妈,我会把人家吵醒的。”又一次,我让自己的惯性怯场占了上风,没答应您。回想起来,自己真是自私得难以置信。但你坚持要我唱,而我最后也让步了。
我唱了我们的最爱――芭芭拉・史翠珊、琳 达・朗丝黛和贝特・迈德尔的歌。我的声音很轻,和房间里昏暗的灯光相称。我尽力控制音量,不让其穿透墙壁。你闭上眼睛倾听着,然后感谢我,说我的歌声如此美妙宁静。
那个一月里的最后一周,我们把你带回家。那些晚上,我总会陪坐在你旁边。我给你念《理查德三世的悲剧》里的故事,因为我知道那是你的最爱。当然,我会边读边作充满讥讽的评论。“安妮小姐是世上最傻的傻瓜。”我会朝你双眼看过去,寻求回应,我希望你会睁开眼,微笑着对我那“狡猾的”企图作出回应。
我读罗比・伯恩斯和沃尔特・惠特曼的诗给你听,给你的手涂抹润肤露。最后,我鼓起勇气想再次唱歌给你听。这次你没法叫我唱。奶奶眯着眼睛从门缝往里看,含着泪对我们微笑。我停了下来。“继续唱歌给你妈妈听。”她说道。当我唱完歌,爸爸问我:“你能在追悼仪式上唱歌吗?”你那时就躺在我旁边,在你面前说这样的话,突然显得太残忍了。“我不知道我能否做到。我尽量吧。”我们没再提起这件事。
那个周六,你去世以后,我回到家,稍稍地借助了那瓶“绝对伏特加”的酒力来练唱。我要你最后一次听到我完美无暇的歌声。
就这样,我最终站到了台上。以防临时怯场,我事先没有告诉任何人我的计划,临场才向牧师要求加插,牧师于是告诉我该在葬礼过程中哪个时候上场,这时,准备致悼词的雪莉问道:“要是有人在詹妮弗唱之前站起来抢着表达哀思呢?”我马上反驳:“那现在他们就得等一等,不行吗?”她笑道:“你可真像你妈妈。”我笑笑,感谢她的称赞。
面对着麦克风,我的双手颤抖着。我说了几句话,好让自己鼓起勇气,并且镇定下来。然后,我轻柔地唱出一曲《彩虹深处》。
我回想起孩童时期,每次妈妈你出门在外而电视在播《绿野仙踪》时,你都会打电话来让我也看。尽管相隔千里,长途话费激增,我俩仍会在电话里为影片中出现的那一幕龙卷风场景齐声尖叫。我们会唱二重唱,和埃西里同车时,我们就变成了三重唱。那是我们的歌。
我唱完了最后一句歌词:“倘若快活的小青鸟能飞越彩虹,为何,噢,为何我却不能?”然后,我悄悄说道:“妈妈,你现在拥有美丽的翅膀了。但愿它们能带你去任何你想去的地方……”
我这一生中最艰难的时刻至少有上百人看着,但我只在意一个人。妈妈,我当然会唱歌给你听,什么时候让我唱都行。
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