为父亲唱歌

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just happened to be in the card shop looking for a birthday card， when a man struck up a conversation.

“What are you giving your father this year？” he asked me.

“My father died in 1998，” I said.

Obviously embarrassed， he said， “Oh， I’m sorry. I never thought to ask.”

Then without hesitation he continued， “It’s just that I always have a hard time trying to find something for my father. It’s not that he has everything， but whatever you give him always ends up in a drawer unused. I have this great fear that when he dies I’m going to find all my gifts for him still in the original packaging.”

“I know exactly how you feel，” I answered. “Each Father’s Day we decided to take him out to dinner and give him a gift card to whatever store he shopped. It was really not very personal， but he liked it. He got to choose what he wanted.”

“No matter what we give him， he always says the same thing， ‘Oh， that’s nice. You’re wasting your money！’” he said， laughing. “Then he sets it aside.”

“Well， it’s easy for me now. I just sing for him，” I told him.

“But I thought you said he was dead.”

“Yes， but he’s still very much alive in me，” I replied. “I sing because my father sang love songs to my mother. I grew up on great music. I’m just paying him back.”

“Where do you sing for him？”

“At the cemetery， of course.”

“Okay...” he seemed skeptical.

“Every Father’s Day I visit the cemetery. Because his grave is close to the road， I am able to pull up next to it. I open my car door， pop in my own CD I recorded and stand over his grave and sing.”

“What do you sing？” he asked.

“‘Danny Boy’. It was his favorite. It always brought tears to his eyes.”

“Then what？”

“Then I get back in my car and go home.”

“Don’t you feel foolish？” he asked. “I mean there must be other people around. Don’t they look at you funny？”

“To tell you the truth I never pay attention to anyone else. Yes， I see them there， but this is my gift for my father. They bring flowers. I sing.”

“Well， I can’t sing，” he objected.

“You don’t have to，” I told him. “While you still have your father with you， give him your time. Sit with him. Talk to him while you can. Ask him questions about his youth， when he met your mother， his first job. What was his biggest dream？ Do you know any of this？”

He thought for a moment， ran his fingers up and down the greeting cards in front of him and softly said， “No. I don’t.”

“There will come a time when you wish you had asked，” I said.

“Come to think of it， I don’t even know his favorite song，” he said.

“Find out and buy it for him. Better yet， sing it with him. That， my friend， will be the greatest gift you’ll ever give him. Then on that day when all the shirts and ties are found in his drawer unopened， you’ll still have something to give him. If a stranger stops you in a card store and asks， you can say， ‘I sing for my father.’”

我碰巧在一家卖贺卡的小店里挑选生日贺卡，这时一个男人和我攀谈起来。

“今年父亲节你打算给父亲送点什么？”他问我。

“我父亲1998年就去世了。”我说。

他显然有些尴尬，连忙说：“噢，抱歉。我本不想问这个的。”

他没有犹豫，继续说：“只是对我来说，给父亲选礼物总是很难。倒不是因为他什么都有，而是不管你送给他什么，最后总会被他放进抽屉里，从不使用。我很担心，将来在他去世以后，我会发现我送给他的所有礼物都原封未动。”

“我非常理解你的感受。”我回应道，“每年父亲节，我们都选择带他出去吃饭，再送给他一张礼品卡，可以到他光顾过的任何商店购物。虽然那确实没有什么个人特色，但他很喜欢。他可以去选购自己想要的东西。”

“不管我们送给他什么礼物，他的话总是如出一辙：‘噢，真不错。你们又在乱花钱了！’”他笑着说了起来，“然后他就把礼物放在一边。”

“嗯，对我来说，如今可容易了，我只要唱歌给他听就行了。”我告诉他。

“但是我记得你刚才说过他已经不在了。”

“对，但他仍然活在我心里。”我回答道，“我唱歌是因为父亲生前总是为母亲唱情歌。我是伴着动听的音乐长大的。我只是在回报他。”

“你在哪儿为他唱歌呢？”

“当然是在公墓。”

“是吗……”他看起来半信半疑。

“每年父亲节我都去公墓拜祭。因为他的墓紧挨公路，所以我可以把车停在旁边。我会打开车门，插入我事先录制好的激光唱片，然后就站在他的墓旁和着音乐一起唱歌。”

“你都唱些什么呢？”他问。

“《丹尼男孩》。这是他最喜欢的歌曲。每次听，他都会热泪盈眶。”

“那然后呢？”

“然后我就回到车里，开车回家。”

“你不觉得这样做有点儿傻吗？”他问，“我是说你唱歌的时候，旁边肯定有其他人。他们看你不觉得可笑吗？”

“说实话，我从不注意其他人。的确，我看到他们在那儿，但这是我送给我父亲的礼物。他们带来鲜花，我则带来歌声。”

“可是，我不会唱歌。”他表示异议。

“你不必非要唱歌。”我告诉他，“在你父亲仍然健在的时候，多花些时间在他身上，陪他坐坐，可能的话和他聊聊天，问问他年轻时候的事，问他什么时候遇见你的母亲，以及他的第一份工作。他最大的梦想是什么？这些你都了解吗？”

他思索片刻，手指在面前的贺卡上来回滑动，轻声说：“不，我不了解。”

“总有一天你会后悔自己没有问过这些事。”我说。

“我想起来了，我甚至都不知道他最喜欢什么歌。”他说。

“去弄清楚，然后买给他听，不过更好的是和他一起唱。我的朋友，那将是你要送给他的最棒的礼物。那样，即便有一天，你发现抽屉里所有的衬衫和领带都原封未动，你仍然还有东西可以送给他。如果一个陌生人在贺卡店里拦住你，询问买礼物的事，你就可以说：‘我为父亲唱歌。’”