If you love her enough
只要你愛她愛的夠深
My friend John always has something to tell me. He knows so much that young men have to have older and more worldly wise men to tell them， for instance， who to trust， how to care for others， and how to live life to the fullest.
Recently， John lost his wife Janet. For eight years she fought against cancer， but in the end her sickness had the last word.
One day John took out a folded piece of paper from his wallet. He had found it， so he told me， when he tidied up some drawers at home. It was a small love letter Janet had written. The note could look like a school girl’s scrawls about her dream guy. All that was missing was a drawing of a heart with the names John and Janet written in it. But the small letter was written by a woman who has had seven children; a woman who fought for her life and who probably only had a few months left to live.
It was also a beautiful recipe for how to keep a marriage together.
Janet’s description of her husband begins thus： “Loved me. Took care of me. Worried about me.”
Even though John always had a ready answer， he never joked about cancer apparently.
Sometimes he came home in the evening to find Janet in the middle of one of those depressions cancer patients so often get. In no time he got her into the car and drove her to her favorite restaurant.
He showed consideration for her， and she knew it. You cannot hide something for someone who knows better.
“Helped me when I was ill，” the next line reads. Perhaps Janet wrote this while the cancer was in one of the horrible and wonderful lulls2. Where everything is – almost – as it used to be， before the sickness broke out， and where it doesn’t hurt to hope that everything is over， maybe forever.
“Forgave me a lot.”
“Stood by my side.”
And a piece of good advice for everyone who looks on giving constructive criticism as a kind of sacred duty： “Always praising.”
“Made sure I had everything I needed，” she goes on to write.
After that she has turned over the paper and added： “Warmth. Humor. Kindness. Thoughtfulness.”
And then she writes about the husband she has lived with and loved most of her life： “Always there for me when I needed you.”
The last words she wrote sum up all the others. I can see her for me when she adds thoughtfully： “Good friend.”
I stand beside John now， and cannot even pretend to know how it feels to lose someone who is as close to me as Janet was to him. I need to hear what he has to say much more than he needs to talk.
“John，” I ask. “How do you stick together with someone through 38 years – not to mention the sickness? How do I know if I can bear to stand by my wife’s side if she becomes sick one day?”
“You can，” he says quietly. “If you love her enough， you can.”
我的朋友約翰總會有些事兒給我講，他深知年輕人必須讓比自己年長、閱歷更豐富的男人多多啟發。比如說，什么樣的人值得信任、如何關心別人以及怎樣才能活得最充實。
最近，約翰的妻子珍妮特離開了他。她與癌癥抗爭了八年，但最終還是輸給了病魔。
一天，約翰從錢包里拿出一張疊起來的紙。他告訴我，這是他在家收拾抽屜時找到的。那是珍妮特寫的一封短小的情書。紙上的內容就像是一個女生想念她的夢中情人時胡寫出來的，旁邊就差再畫上一顆寫著約翰和珍妮特的名字、被箭穿過的心了。但是這封短信的作者是一位養育了七個孩子的母親——一個為活下來而抗爭、生命可能只剩下幾個月的女人。
這封信同時也是一個絕妙的秘方，它告訴我們如何保持婚姻的和諧。
珍妮特是如此開始描述她的丈夫的：“他愛我，照顧我，關心我。”
雖然約翰對一切都心中有數，但他從不拿癌癥話題開玩笑。有時他晚上回到家，發現珍妮特陷入了癌癥患者經常會遇到的種種憂郁中，他二話不說，開車就帶著珍妮特到她最喜歡的餐館去。
約翰對珍妮特十分體貼，珍妮特知道這一點。如果一個人比你更加了解一件事兒，你是無法將這件事兒對其隱瞞的。
信的下一行寫道：“我病弱時，他幫助我。”珍妮特寫下這句時，她的病情可能正處在某個恐怖卻又美好的暫緩期。在病情急劇惡化之前的這個階段，一切都和以前一樣——幾乎一樣吧。這時候，你可以不痛不癢地企盼一切都結束了，也許永遠地結束了。
“容忍我很多的不對。”
“守在我身邊。”
對于那些喜歡將發表建設性批評意見作為神圣職責的人，信中還有一條很好的建議：“不停地贊揚。”
“確保我能得到我所需要的任何東西。”她接著寫道。
她將紙翻到背面又添上：“溫柔。幽默。善良。貼心。”然后，她又這樣描述了那個與她一同生活的丈夫——她多半生最愛的人：“在我需要時你一直守候在那里。”
她寫的最后一句話總結了其他所有內容，我可以看到她是如何若有所思地在紙上加上了這句話——“好朋友。”
我現在站在約翰身邊，卻連假裝了解自己失去一個像珍妮特對約翰那樣重要的人的感覺都做不到。約翰需要找人說話，有些話他必須說出來，而我卻更急切地要聽他的那些話。
“約翰，”我問道，“先不提對方得了什么病，就光說這38年，你是怎么跟一個人和美地生活過來的?如果某天我妻子生病了，我怎么知道我能不能挺住一直守在她身邊呢?”
“你可以的，”他靜靜地說，“只要你愛她愛得夠深”。
