Yes, Janine said.
"He says you're great."
Oh, she laughed. No. He just says that.
Morrie raised his eyebrows. "Will you sing something for me?"
Now, I have heard people ask this of Janine for almost as long as I have known her. When people find out you sing for a living, they always say, "Sing something for us." Shy about her talent, and a perfectionist about conditions, Janine never did. She would politely decline. Which is what I expected now.
Which is when she began to sing:
"The very thought of you
and I forget to do
the little ordinary things that everyone ought to do..."
It was a 1930's standard, written by Ray Noble, and Janine sang it sweetly, looking straight at Morrie. I was amazed, once again, at his ability to draw emotion from people who otherwise kept it locked away. Morrie closed his eyes to absorb the notes. As my wife's loving voice filled the room, a crescent smile appeared on his face. And while his body was stiff as a sandbag, you could almost see him dancing inside it.
"I see your face in every flower,
your eyes in stars above,
it's just the thought of you,
the very thought of you,
my love..."
When she finished, Morrie opened his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks. In all the years I have listened to my wife sing, I never heard her the way he did at that moment.
