At a medical clinic in Waterloo, Ontario, an elderly woman sat on a waiting room chair singing the Celine Dion tune "My Heart Will Go On." I was there with my father, who was getting a routine blood 1. Because she was so2, she was forced to sit on the edge of the chair so her feet could touch the floor. The3made it seem as though she were sitting forward to4conversation with my dad.
I was concerned about how my dad would5to the possible encroachment(侵犯) on his space. He was 77 at the time and had been6with Alzheimer's(阿尔茨海默病) for several years. Since Alzheimer's has a7to destroy a person's patience, Dad had had a few8 experiences in the past. I couldn't help but9that this little woman was playing with fire.
Her singing began gently, like a quiet hum. I glanced over at Dad. He was10right at her. I couldn't11his expression, but it seemed to be something like confusion. This wasn't a(n)12 state for him, and I wondered whether he was actually seeing her13or if he was lost somewhere deep in his mind, not really aware of her14at that point.
Her singing slowly got15. By the time she got to the chorus—"Near, far, wherever you are…"—she16her eyes and sang at the top of her voice. Now Dad looked a little stunned. Still, I watched for any17of an outburst of anger. Instead, his face softened, and the18eased in his brow. He no longer looked19.
When her song ended, the woman opened her eyes. My dad was still looking20at her. "That was beautiful," he said.
And she smiled and said, "Thank you."
