Singing for the Patient with a Head Trauma Who Says “I Love You A Lot” Every Few Seconds
1. You think it is meant for someone else, even though you are alone with him. You must have misunderstood.
2. You meet his eyes and laugh, nervously, when he repeats himself. You are embarrassed, though no one is around to see you fumble through this conversation with a 5-year-old with a brain injury. He looks at you from his bed, a tent of mesh hanging around him, his face peering out beneath a green helmet. He smiles and says it again. He is not embarrassed.
3. You begin to let the words flutter around your head, getting tangled in your hair like moths. You smile at their gentle tickle. He has not stopped smiling.
4. You wonder when it will stop.
5. You chide yourself for wondering.
6. The minutes and words spill on, hypnotic as running water. You start to believe, all you are is this moment with him, your eyes and your smiles and the song you are singing, and he knows you, and he loves you, a LOT, he loves you A LOT he LOVES you, a lot, you begin to believe him, you begin to love him even though you do not say it, you keep singing, you keep this moment alive and he loves you a lot.
7. You know you will leave him when the song is over. You have warned him it is the last one, you know he will attach his attention to the nurse when she comes in, but you will leave him alone and your heart winces. You wish he would stop.
8. One more, and you leave. The room is quiet behind you, stagnant with meaningless TV conversation.
9. Later, you remember. The moment is frozen over. You tell yourself, he does not remember your name. He never knew what he was saying.
10. You listen to the recording you took before you go to sleep. His small, earnest voice. He is alone in a room and so are you. You wonder if he has stopped smiling.
11. You listen again and smile, just in case.