#Night听心电图
留言是精华。♥
他的童年不快乐。七岁到一个全新的国家生活，他们父子俩相依为命，却无法感受到父爱的温暖。不是因为父亲不爱他，而是用了严格管教的方式训导他。无论是在课业、操场、社交有任何表现，父亲从来不给予嘉许。提醒他要更努力。凌晨三点要他起床晨跑，谈话时从来不允许他回话。父亲用他从前当军人的系统栽培他。但却让他在18岁的时候离开了家，不再与父亲联系。
独自生活的他找了一份安稳的工作，有自己的房子。即使住得很靠近，却从来不与父亲会面。有一次，他开着车看见父亲在路边走向巴士站，他决定停下送父亲一程。就是那10分钟的车程，车子里的氛围与以往完全不同。父亲既然跟他谈话，进行双向交流。父亲还说了自己的生活，压力与困扰。那天之后，他与父亲的互动改变了。他偶尔拜访父亲，向他介绍自己的女友。父亲还会跟他们谈心说笑。两人终于有了父子的自在关系。
有一天下班后，他打开手机发现有好几通父亲打来的未接来电。由于公司规定上班时不能开机，他都错过了。父亲在首几个语音留言里要求他开车接送他。那是父亲偶尔会找他帮忙的事，而他也从来不拒绝。最后一则留言，只听到空气的声音，父亲没有出声。当天，他接到消息，父亲在走路去巴士站时，被人枪杀丧命。
他为此很自责。心理常想起没有接送到父亲的那最后一程，那最后一通父亲也许躺在血泊中留下的无声留言。他再也无法如常生活。他辞了工作，以父亲会惩罚他的方式来惩罚自己：加入海军。
故事令人心碎，留言虽然都在安慰他，觉得他不应该自责，然而有一则留言则道出了重点：
Don't forget the ride where you did stop. A ten minute ride which changed your relationship for the better forever. You cant be everywhere for everyone all the time, but that first initial time you stopped and picked him up probably meant the world to him. I agree with all the sentiments in the comments - don't carry this burden. Don't punish yourself. Wishing you peace and happiness.
”别忘了那一趟你决定为他停下，送他一程的10分钟行程。那一个永久改变了你们的关系，让你们变得更融洽的决定。你无法随时随地为需要你的人付出，但是那一个第一次、那一程，对你的父亲来说是无比珍贵的啊。“
越愿意为生活努力的人，越轻易地就会为生活里的不顺遂自责。那是因为你在乎，那是因为你在为重要的事努力。然而，你其实也做了很多值得自己骄傲的决定。生命的遗憾虽然任凭你多努力也许都无法避免，允许自己为之哀悼，但不要忘记你的努力，也换来了很珍贵的幸福。那才是真正重要的事。
梦想不必伟大，心跳必须炙热。
“My dad brought me here at the age of seven. My mom stayed back in Jamaica, so it was just me and him. He was very strict. It was cultural, mostly. He’d served in the military back home. So he controlled all areas of my life-- school, sports, socializing. Nothing was ever enough for him: not the first place medals, not the honor roll, nothing. He tried hard to break me down. He’d wake me up at 3 AM to go running. He’d make me kneel on the floor all night. And he’d never let me speak back. He intimidated me into silence. I left the house when I turned eighteen. I got a job as a pharmacy tech. I got my own apartment, but I still lived nearby. One day I was driving to work, and I saw him walking to the bus stop. So I pulled over and picked him up. The ride was only ten minutes. But there was a different energy. He actually talked to me. And he let me talk back. He told me things about his life. He talked about how stressed he felt. Things got better after that day. I’d occasionally drop by the house. I introduced him to my girlfriend. He’d tell jokes and laugh. We were beginning to form a relationship. On the morning he died, I actually drove past the crime scene without realizing it. My phone was turned off because it’s not allowed at work. When I finally turned it on, I had several missed calls from him. Each time he left a voicemail: ‘Alex, pick up,’ ‘Alex, please come get me,’ ‘Alex, I need a ride.’ The only time he didn’t leave a voicemail was the very last call. He’d been shot in the neck while walking to the bus stop. I always wonder if the last call was while he was bleeding out. The next few months were surreal. I felt like I was sleepwalking. And I felt responsible. He’d called me for a ride and I’d been right around the corner. I ended up quitting my job. I went to a recruiter's office. And I punished myself the same way he’d have done it: I joined the Marines.”
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