take from Words from the Heart

Words from the Heart  

很多人都期待能听到那“三个字”——我爱你。我在康妮住进病房的那天见到了她，我在那儿当义工。……
Most people need to hear those "three little words"- I love you. Once in a while
they hear them just in time.
I met Connie the day she was admitted to the hospice ward
where I worked as a volunteer. Her husband
Bill
stood nervously nearby as she was transferred from the gurney to the hospital bed. Although Connie was in the final stages of her fight against cancer
she was alert and cheerful. We got her settled in. I finished marking her name on all the hospital supplies she would be using
then asked if she needed anything.
"Oh
yes
" she said
"Would you please show me how to use the TV? I enjoy the soaps so much and I don't want to get behind on what's happening." Connie was a romantic. She loved soap operas
romance novels and movies with a good love story. As we became acquainted
she confided how frustrating it was to be married 32 years to a man who often called her "a silly woman".
"Oh
I know Bill loves me
" she said
"but he has never been one to say he loves me
or send cards to me."She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard. "I’d give anything if he'd say 'I love you
' but it's just not in his nature."
Bill visited Connie every day. In the beginning
he sat next to the bed while she watched the soaps. Later
when she began sleeping more
he paced up and down the hallway outside her room. Soon
when she no longer watched television and had fewer waking moments
I began spending more of my volunteer time with Bill.
He talked about having worked as a carpenter and how he liked to go fishing. He and Connie had no children
but they'd been enjoying retirement by traveling
until Connie got sick. Bill could not express his feelings about the fact that his wife was dying.
One day
over coffee in the cafeteria
I got him on the subject of women and how we need romance in our lives; how we love to get sentimental1 cards and love letters.
"Do you tell Connie you love her?" I asked (knowing his answer)
and he looked at me as if I was crazy.
"I don't have to
" he said. "She knows I do!"
"I'm sure she knows
" I said
reaching over and touching his hands rough
carpenter's hands that were gripping the cup as if it were the only thing he had to hang onto "but she needs to hear it
Bill. She needs to hear what she has meant to you all these years. Please think about it."
We walked back to Connie"s room. Bill disappeared inside
and I left to visit another patient. Later
I saw Bill sitting by the bed. He was holding Connie's hand as she slept. The date was February 12.
Two days later I walked down the hospice ward at noon. There stood Bill
leaning up against the wall in the hallway
staring at the floor. I already knew from the head nurse that Connie had died at 11 A.M.
When Bill saw me
he allowed himself to e into my arms for a long time. His face was wet with tears and he was trembling. Finally
he leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.
"I have to say something
" he said. "I have to say how good I feel about telling her." He stopped to blow his nose. "I thought a lot about what you said
and this morning I told her how much I loved her... and loved being married to her. You shouldhaveseen her smile!"
I went into the room to say my own good bye to Connie. There
on the bedside table
was a large Valentine card from Bill. You know
the sentimental kind that says
"To my wonderful wife... I love you."