In the chemotherapy department, there was a young woman in the final stages of cancer. Although she was always tormented by pain, she never forgot to give us a grateful smile after each treatment. Whenever her husband came to visit, her eyes were shining with happiness. He was a handsome man, polite and friendly like his wife.
I really admire their love story. Every day he brings her fresh flowers and a bright smile, he comes to her bed, holds her hand and talks to her. When the pain is too much, she cries and becomes irritable, he holds her tightly, comforts and encourages his wife until the pain subsides.
He was always by her side whenever she needed him, he helped her drink water and did not forget to gently stroke her eyebrows. Every night, before leaving, he always closed the door so that the two of them could have moments together. When he left, we saw her sleeping soundly but there was still a smile on her lips.
But that night everything changed. When I looked at the monitoring board, the results showed that the young wife would not survive the night. Although I was very sad, I knew that it was the best way for her, from now on she would not suffer any more pain.
Leaving the chart on the table, I wanted to go to the hospital room. When I entered the room, she opened her eyes and looked at me, smiling weakly, but her breathing sounded labored. Her husband sat next to her, smiling and saying, "Until now, the best gift I have given her is my love."
And I cried when I heard that, I said if they needed anything, don't hesitate. That night she passed away in the arms of her beloved husband. I didn't know what else to do but try to comfort and share this pain with her husband. With a tear-stained face, he choked: "Please let me stay with her a little longer."
Stepping out of the room, standing in the hallway wiping away tears, remembering her smile, remembering her eyes, remembering the tight hugs she gave us... I remember everything about her as a close friend, I can also somewhat feel the pain her husband is suffering.
Suddenly from inside the room came a deep voice that I had never heard before. Not only me but everyone was captivated by his voice when he sang the song Beautiful Brown Eyes. Then the melody of the song gradually faded, he opened the door and called me over, he looked deep into my eyes, hugged me and said: "I have sung this song to her every night since the day we met. Every day I always try to keep my voice low so as not to disturb other patients. And I'm sure that tonight in heaven she will still hear me singing.
I'm sorry to bother you all. I just don't know how to live without her, but every night I still sing to her. Do you think she can hear me?
I nodded slightly, tears still flowing. He hugged me again, kissed my cheek, and thanked me and everyone. Then he turned away, bowed his head, and softly whistled a familiar tune. As he walked away, I watched him go, silently praying for her, for him, and for me to one day find a love like that.
